Alien
by nd7878
Summary: The Phantom Thieves had always made two assumptions. One, a Persona user could not have a Palace, and two, once someone had their heart stolen once, they would never develop a Palace again. Unfortunately, Futaba Sakura had a habit of breaking expectations.
1. Chapter 1

_Type a message…_

Easy enough, right? She spent a good majority of her lifetime typing, this wouldn't be any different. Futaba's fingers flicked over the keypad with practiced ease.

 _Hey, I wanna go to school tomorrow. Take me._

No. Too demanding. Delete, try again.

 _Hey, could you please take me to the school tomorrow, if that's possible?_

No, again. It matched the layout of some sample texts online perfectly, but it just clashed too much with her personality. They would immediately think something was wrong. Maybe something more casual?

 _hey, can u take me to school w u tmrw?_

No, no, no. She wanted people to respect her, so she wasn't going to resort to that level of informality. Typing was easy, so why was actually using words so hard?

 _Can I go to school with you tomorrow?_

Futaba placed her phone on her desk and appraised her message. Not too formal, not too informal. She thought, anyways. It could be taken seriously, without causing anyone to worry. Hopefully.

Maybe she should write a couple more drafts just to be sure…

No, if she kept trying to rewrite it, she would never send it at all. But she needed to come off as casual and confident… it wasn't really a big deal, right? She was just going to sit in on a couple of high school classes. She already had the grand tour thanks to Akira, so it wasn't like it would be her first time visiting. Yeah, she had this!

Her phone screen turned off, leaving the small girl staring back at herself in the black mirror. Maybe she should skim that self-help book she made Sojiro buy her a couple weeks ago before actually going through with this… There was also a communication book on sale this week, but it only had a physical copy and she had already asked Sojiro to go out for her twice this week. She could go out herself, but she was still recovering from the last time. Being a part of society was really draining.

"GAH! Why is this so hard?! I message the group chat all the time! This is a boss, isn't it? The group chat's easier because they get scaled down when they're so many of them! That's the first rule of game design!"

That was a lie, Futaba knew, but she was too worried about social interaction to care about the accuracy of her monologues. While she loved games, and would rather be playing them right now than struggling with real-world problems, she was actually only moderately informed on the design that went into making games themselves. She just read articles when they showed up. Tearing a game's code apart and actually putting an entire game together from scratch, story and all, were two totally different things, and she could only do one of them blindfolded. She'd much rather just stay in her room and reference the games she played to herself (because, as she found out during her 'social training' with the Phantom Thieves, constantly referring to games in actual conversation was 'kind of weird.' She couldn't stop it completely, but she tried to limit it a little bit, at least. For the plebs).

"If I can go to Akihabara by myself, I can send this text! That's right, I've reached level thirty-six! I'm evolving as a person!"

In a flash of reckless abandon, she snatched up her phone and unlocked in a single motion. The send button stared back at her impartially, unperturbed by her newfound strength. This wasn't like when she contacted the Phantom Thieves initially; she wouldn't sit in her room for hours trying to figure out what she was going to do. They were her friends now!

So why was it so hard to send a simple request?

No. No more fighting with herself. This enemy may be tough, but she had the power to face it. In a fit of self-indulgence, she ripped her glasses off theatrically and met her foe head-on.

"Aaaaahhhh!"

With that final push forward, Futaba Sakura conquered yet another hurdle of her hero's journey. By the end of this, she wouldn't need Akira's help anymore! She'd show him that she could stand on her own two feet, and that she didn't need to be looked after. Than, maybe, he'd start seeing her as an equal, and not just a kid…

"Futaba? Is something wrong?"

Futaba's face blazed crimson as she realized her blunder: Sojiro did not open Leblanc until early afternoon on Saturdays.

"N-n-no! It's nothing!"

She heard him shuffle towards the bottom of the stairwell. ' _Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it-'_

After a moment of tension, she heard him sigh in exasperation and move on, leaving her to wallow in her own embarrassment. "Kids these days, always screaming about something… Why can't anyone just do anything quietly anymore?"

After a few more minutes, she heard the front door open and close, signalling her step-father's departure.

"Icantbelieveididthatwhilehewasstillhereohmygodthatssoemba-"

Futaba threw herself onto her bed and curled around one of her body pillows, quietly dying inside. She needed to soundproof her room. Badly. Sojiro didn't understand. He never understood that sometimes you just have to scream your feelings at no one in particular. That wasn't that weird, right?

She'd answer that question some other time. Today had already been mentally taxing to the max. After a brief channel, Futaba activated her coveted 'Midday Nap' skill, an ability she knew was desired by many other players he age. There were perks to not going to school, she thought, as she sunk into the land of dreams. Today, she would walk in a world of curry.

Delicious, delicious curry. Her dreams were spicy that afternoon.

* * *

In a high school an undisclosed distance from the snoozing redhead, Makoto Niijima's phone went off, alerting both herself and her fellow classmates that she had forgotten to turn the ringer off.

* * *

Futaba wanted to be like Makoto. No, not just _like_ her; if the recovering shut-in had a final form, she wished it was half as cool as Queen. She was confident, smart, charming, and sociable, and that didn't even scratch the tip of the iceberg. She must have rolled max for every single stat during character creation. It was a little unfair, Futaba thought, but as long as she remained nice and helpful and didn't become arrogant, the girl would be glad to call the Student Council President her friend any day. Futaba would never say this to her face, but she wished Makoto was her sister. Then, maybe, she would have never fallen in on herself all that time ago…

No! No time for sad thoughts! Futaba smacked herself on the face to psych up, and (somewhat robotically) marched her way into Shujin. Student Council room, third floor, right next to the library. She could do that. The white school building stood over her, intimidating, but Palaces were even more intimidating, and she had been through those before. This would be nothing. Right?

"Student Council room, third floor, library…" she muttered to herself, anxiously avoiding the questioning gazes of the teenagers in the hall. She felt the claustrophobia creep up on her, but put her training to use and pushed it aside. Aside, not away. For some reason, her anxiety spiked when inside of a school, and it was much harder to fight back than usual. She wasn't dressed the part, but she didn't even have Shujin's uniform, so that could be excused. Maybe she should have worn something less colorful than her green coat and a graphic-tee, though… then she might have only been glanced at briefly instead of stared at by everyone. Her hands found each other behind her back, and she decided to focus on them instead of the people around her. Her thumbs fiddles, and her fingers interlaced and untwined and repeated. She just had to make it to Makoto, then everything would be fine.

"I've got this!" she said, realizing a second too late that she had said that out loud.

By the time she made it to the stairwell, she had it under something akin to control. She had conquered worse challenges in her (admittedly short) lifetime. These were just kids around her own age, right? Nothing to worry about. Except for their judgemental stares…

' _Wow, she took a gap year before high school? So lame.'_

' _Look at how she's dressed! Is that text-speak on her shirt? What a nerd!'_

"I'll spread your embarrassing pictures all over the net… " she mumbled to herself, striking back at imagined monsters. Schools were battlefields, and she was here to learn how to win from the final boss herself.

Luckily for her, Makoto was waiting at the top of the stairs like an angel from above, ready to provide Futaba with some shelter and comfort in this isolated world.

"Hey, Futaba! I'm glad you're here. How was the trip over?"

Futaba smirked and pushed up her glasses. "Nothing I couldn't handle with my current power level, of course."

Even though she new her 'gamer talk' went over Makoto's head, the third-year just smiled. "Good, I'm glad you didn't have any trouble. I was only able to get the teachers of my afternoon classes to let you sit in, so hopefully that will help you figure things out. I'll be with you the entire time, so if you ever start getting worried, just let me know and I'll take you somewhere else, okay?"

It shouldn't be possible for one person to be that kind. Other than Akira and Makoto, this level of pure goodness was beyond anything Futaba would never have guessed existed. But she couldn't go letting those two getting big heads by saying anything about it…

"Alright. Thank you!"

It was times like these when Futaba remembered that she was a genius. Even a third-year high school class made perfect sense to her. She wasn't at the level where she could skip straight to college, though, nor did she was to deal with the social pressure that came with skipping grades like that. No, that's not why she was going back to high school. She would become 'normal.' At least, normal enough to be accepted. And, whatever she did, she would not pull out the portable game system in her coat pocket. No matter how boring the class got.

She wouldn't do it.

Nope.

' _If you take it out, people will start paying attention to the weird girl, then Makoto will get embarrassed.'_

Problem solved.

After an arduous couple of hours, the bell rang with sweet freedom, and Makoto led her to the council room so she could watch the proceedings.

The council room itself was really boring, Futaba thought, but maybe that just came from the whole 'real life' thing. She perched herself on a chair in the corner, watching how she thought a bird of prey would watch something. If her Phantom Thief costume would have been a bit more bird-like, she would have gone with something cool like "Eagle" for her codename. Maybe if she could just get Makoto to trade masks with her.

' _You are here to observe, so stop daydreaming and observe!'_

The Oracle could focus. She could, and so she drew herself out of her mind and did. The council mainly discussed club funding, specifically regarding the reinstitution of the track team. Apparently, the allocating money to a club that didn't exist during the beginning of the year was difficult, especially considering they still had to find equipment for them. Makoto's vice-president led a renegade faction under the battle cry, "Let next year's council handle it!", but the Oracle's Queen would not be swayed. They locked in bloodless conflict, a war of words that inspired Futaba to consider writing a ballad of war.

She would have, if not for her total lack of musical experience. Maybe she should teach herself music theory…

In the end, the queen stood triumphant over her rebellious subject, a cool glare daring anyone to stand against her iron rule.

' _God, I want to be her.'_

The council dispersed, and Futaba finally released the tension she hadn't realized that she was holding.

"Being around people is stressful…" she whined, kicking her feet out under the table.

Makoto sighed, still caught up in the war. "I'm sorry about that. His position makes sense, since we are nearing graduation and all, but I… I don't want to slack off, even this close to the finish line. That's not fair to the student's we're supposed to be supporting."

"You really kicked his ass, though."

Makoto's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh no, did I? Was I really that harsh? I just thought we could do better, I didn't want to create more problems…"

Futaba snickered. "Oh, no, you're fine! I thought you were a real badass. Like a one-woman army, representing the power of the people!"

It took the third-year a moment to decide whether or not that was a good thing. "O-oh. I guess that's okay, then. As long as I'm doing my job well. Would you ever be interested in student council work, Futaba-chan?"

"Nope, never," she said with a smile.

"Well, at least you're confident... " Makoto seemed a little disappointed, but not surprised. They both knew her better than to assume she'd join a very people-intensive group. She was still recovering, after all.

Right as Makoto returned her focus to the documents in front of her, there was a knock on the door. Before the president even said "Come in," Akira had hesitantly slid the door open.

"Hey, Prez." It took him a moment to register Futaba (probably due to his 'dumb curly hair,' as she most eloquently called it), but his eyes only widened slightly. "Oh, hey, Futaba. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I just watched Our Royal Highness here rip her VP a new asshole-"

"Futaba!"

Said redhead snickered at her senpai's embarrassment. She blushed too easily, and making fun of her was too fun. Someone had to fill Joker's shoes when they weren't in the Metaverse, right?

The thought of Joker's teasing of Queen put a sour taste in the navigator's mouth, so she pushed those thoughts away. Besides, it's not like he was flirting with her. It was just part of the 'Joker' persona. He teased everyone like that when they were fighting shadows. It was all about keeping morale up! Right?

"Well, I'm glad she's keeping herself in form. Rowdy groups always need someone who's able to keep them in line, and she's pretty damned good at it."

…. Right?

Makoto smiled at the implied compliment, but there was a tint of color on her cheeks. Akira gazed at her with warmth, and his smiled matched hers. They both stopped what they were doing for the briefest of moments, acknowledging each other's existence.

…. Right?

Futaba would be the first to admit that she's a bit of an anxious person who reads into things too much, so it was always better to be careful. "What're you doing here, boss-man?"

"Nothing much. I'm going to be working at Leblanc later tonight, so I thought I'd do some rounds and say hi to everyone to kill time before going home," Akira said. He lowered his voice, but given how soft it was normally it probably wasn't a necessary precaution. "I needed to meet with Queen to work out some ideas for our next target, anyways."

' _Privately.'_ He didn't say it, but Futaba heard the message loud and clear. Even though she knew it was bratty, since he didn't explicitly say 'privately,' she pretended just to not get it. The hacker remained at her perch, pulled her laptop out, and pretended to be busy doing important hacker things (trademark pending).

"Oh! Right!" Makoto scrambled, moving her council work aside in search of some other paper. She found what she was looking for: a few printed articles covered in blazing highlighter. "I've checked all of their names. They're viable. We'll need to convene with the others with a smaller list, though, so I wanted to run them through you first. You should have Morgana glance them over, as well. I'm assuming he's stretching out after being stuffed in your bag all day?"

"Yeah. I thought he would at least just want to hang around here, but maybe I'm not as fun to be around as I thought."

Something about the exchange made her feel off. She recognized a few of the names. Why didn't they ask her to hack in and check to see whether these people were really caught up in scandals or not? She had a list of potential targets stored in her laptop, too. Why didn't they ask her for her opinion? Did Akira not think it was important? Was that why he didn't want her there?

' _No, Futaba,'_ she told herself, ' _It's because Queen is second-in-command. There's more to it than just picking a single target. They need to go through, like, how they fit in the hierarchy, how famous they are, what the fallout would be. They like you. You're important. They will ask you to look into people once they have a better idea. They're just saving you work, right?'_

The rationalization didn't help her feel any less alienated. She was just an observer for now, watching them talk and plan and joke with each other.

"What about the Burger Queen CEO?"

"Her Highness wants to go after fast-food royalty? Heh. Are you sure it's not just because you want to expand your empire?"

"I never really thought of myself as an imperialist queen…" Makoto shot back, with an accent fake enough to give Ann a run for her money. "I'm a fair monarch, and would never think of invading another country without proper cause."

Akira smiled lightly. "Regardless, we've already hit Okumura Foods." The mention of Okumura paused the conversation, but only briefly. The grey cloud dissipated before it could form. "We can have Haru see if these rumors hold any substance; he may have a Palace, but we need to be sure that he's the best target to hit right now. Besides, I feel like we need to venture outside of fast food for a little bit. If we get caught up trying to clean up one industry, we'll be there for months."

It was like she wasn't even there. Someone could just ask her what she thought, that was all. She could still contribute even if they didn't plan on her being there in the first place. She even already had her laptop sitting in her lap… that gave her an idea.

"The Burger Queen CEO has definitely been involved in some shady transactions. He has multiple overseas bank accounts, three of which are under fake names. One of them puts money into a fake account tied to the yakuza pretty often."

Akira and Makoto looked up at Futaba. She almost cursed at herself; she began talking without even waiting for their conversation to die down. But, now they knew she could help, right? She could be included in this discussion. She was right here, after all.

Makoto smiled lightly at her. "Thank you, Futaba. We will keep that in mind going forward."

Akira's cheeks twitched upwards and he nodded to her, but the message was clear: This was a conversation between the two of them. The 'adults.' Because she was just a kid. A socially inept shut-in. Even though she was only a year younger than Akira, and definitely smarter than both of them…

"I think I'm just gonna step out for a sec. I need some nourishment."

' _Why am I so cringy?! This is why he doesn't respect you, Futaba!'_

They both nodded at her as she left, but didn't really pay her much attention. As she slid the door shut behind her, the redhead realized that she had nowhere to go. At least the halls were less crowded now, she thought. The windows lining the school let her get a glance at the courtyard, and, more importantly, the vending machines. She couldn't go back without a snack after that, could she? And so, she had her next objective.

She took off at a brisk walking pace, her hands balled at her side rather than behind her. Maybe she could get the two of them some snacks too? At least if they were eating they wouldn't be talking to each other. She made it to the stairs, and each step she took had more and more force behind it. When her legs couldn't stomp any harder, she grit her teeth, and her brow furrowed in annoyance.

Futaba couldn't place what she was feeling. The alienation was only part of it; there was some resentment there, and pride, but she could only understand them separately. Together, they formed a muddled mess of feelings she didn't know how to deal with without isolating herself more. It was so frustrating, she thought. She knew she could contribute to the team in Mementos, but unless they wanted her to deus ex machina some hacking job, she really had no other purpose. They probably wouldn't care if she holed herself up in her room and only came out when they specifically asked her too. If they didn't need her to take down Medjed, would they have even bothered changing her heart?

' _Gah, I need to yell at Inari or something. This is his fault, somehow.'_

Of course, it wasn't, but Futaba didn't feel like dealing with her emotions anymore. She threw open the door to the courtyard and stalked over to the vending machines, quickly scanning the available food. Nothing in particular called out to her, but she just needed to grab something as an excuse anyways-

' _Wait, where's my bag?'_

"Oh, COME ON!" she screamed, kicking the vending machine with all the might her small body would allow. Apparently, that might was enough to hurt her food through her laced-up boots, and she hissed in pain. "Are you serious?!"

She did have her phone and the cables she would need to hack the machine, but was calm enough to realize that that would be a terrible idea. She would have to somehow loop the closed circuit camera watching over her, which meant she would have to find somewhere to plug her laptop in, which meant she would have to go back and get her laptop, and at that point it would be easier to just grab her money. So, instead, she let out a forced sight of defeat and slumped onto the olive-colored metal bench.

"I thought I heard something familiar… What's up, techie?"

Futaba opened her eyes to a familiar scruff of blonde-dyed hair and a blinding smile leaning over her. "O-oh. Hi, Ryuji. You heard that?"

"Yep. I didn't know we had a meeting called today…" Ryuji trailed off as he opened his phone, presumably checking the group chat. "Huh, it's been dead since yesterday. What're you doin' here, then? This ain't your normal haunt."

She pointed at the vending machine. "I hunger."

She could see the wheels spinning in his head as he tried to figure out how to ask the question in a way that got the answer that he was actually looking for. Obviously, she didn't come all they was to Shujin to buy food. There were other perfectly functional vending machines much closer to her place of residence. The hacker mentally berated herself for being difficult. She really tried not to be, but it was just how she was as a person.

"Mako-chan let me sit in on her classes today, but she and Akira are talking now so I came here." Ryuji raised an eyebrow, but seemed to shrug to himself. Futaba didn't even notice him grab his wallet, and even before he started talking he was making his way to the vending machine.

"Gotcha. Listen, I'm gonna buy you some food, then you're gonna tell me why the hell you'd come to school when you don't have to. That's some kinda masochism if I've ever seen it."

"With the way you ogle over Ann, I thought you'd be quite familiar with being an 'M.'"

"O-oi!"

"Your face is redder than her dominatrix outfit. You really want her whip, don't you?"

Futaba let a cheshire grin take over as the boy sputtered to defend himself. "S-shut up! I-i-it's just very… flattering. I mean, anyone would admit she's hot, right? I'm not into the whole-"

She let his silence fester, holding eye contact until he huffed and turned away. "It's not like that!"

"Uh-huh, yeah."

"Do you want food or not?"

And thus Futaba took her Snark skill off of auto-cast. "Yes, please."

* * *

Futaba had to give Ryuji props; When it came to emotional intelligence, he was probably a genius and didn't even know it. No wonder he was Akira's "best bro," she thought. Before she had even finished eating, he dragged her onto the train to Shibuya, took her down to Central Street's arcade, and loaded her up with play tokens. She hadn't even complained about anything regarding Akira and Makoto, but he just kind of knew something was up.

Or he was just an idiot and needed a partner for arcade gaming. She wasn't exactly an arcade person herself, but games were games, and she knew her games. She found the colors of the place a little off-putting, though. If she needed to come up for an excuse for some terrible loss, she would blame it on the flashing neon greens, yellows, and blues. Each game was bright and vibrant, covered with art and ready to blind her. Most importantly, _people_ lined these colorful consoles, talking, laughing, and cursing as they beat or got beaten in this cutthroat world. Here, everyone could see your loss. But she was a gamer by nature; this was her world.

Or so she thought. General gaming was a completely different beast than these monster games. There were no normal controllers. Ryuji decided that they would start with Gun About, and aiming with an actually gun-shaped controller was a new experience. Before she knew it, she had been mercilessly crushed. Even after they switched to a generic PVE zombie shoot-em-up mode, he would still throw jabs at her play. He needed to be put in his place before he got too cocky. If this were on a PC, he would be so, so, SO dead.

"That's fucking bullshit! There's no way!"

Ryuji grinned from ear to ear, overflowing with pride. "This is my game. There's a reason the King of Akihabara doesn't come the Shibuya, and that's me!"

"Y-you've got to be cheating! You messed with the hitboxes!"

"Nah, you're just going up against the best of the best."

"LAG! I was lagging!"

"Whatever you want to believe."

She took back what she thought early about Ryuji Sakamoto being an emotionally-intelligent genius. He just wanted to play games and she happened to be there at the right time.

That didn't mean she wasn't enjoying herself,though. It wasn't often that she got stomped, and that really got her going. Her pride would not allow her to give up in the face of this _pleb._

' _If I ever think pleb out loud again, I hope someone cuts my tongue out.'_

' _Wait… think something out loud?'_ Futaba confused herself sometimes.

Embarrassment aside, she knew what she was going to do next. From across the way, an orange and yellow console grabbed her attention. A fighting game, with relatively normal controls.

"That one."

"The fighting game?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I'll have you know, I'm pretty well-known as the fighting-game king around these parts."

"What's with arcades and kings? That's just stupid."

His pride was short-lived. After just a game of getting used to her character, Futaba dominated the delinquent brat. She wouldn't let him stop even if he wanted to, because this was her revenge. Luckily for her, he didn't want to. The control pad felt good in her hands, much more natural than the plastic gun from earlier. And if these frames worked like she thought they would...

"N-no way! That's not fair!

' _Infinite combo.'_

"Again! I'll kick your ass this time!"

"And you said you weren't an M…"

"S-shut up!"

It took five matches of utter defeat for Ryuji to give up. She was completely willing to wipe the floor with him indefinitely, but the stares coming from the other patrons turned her off to the idea. She didn't want attention.

"It's just an off day for me!" He growled, shoving his hands into his pockets and sauntering off.

"Of course it is. Now, because I am graceful in victory, I will allow you to pick the next game."

His smile made Futaba immediately regret her decision.

"The dancing game."

"Nope."

That was all Ryuji needed to hear to know that he won. "Hey, you said you'd let me pick."

"I take it back. I'm going home, bye."

There was no way. She would never, ever, EVER, play a game that involved dancing in front of _other people._

He probably didn't expect her to actually walk out, but that's exactly what she did. Central Street was only moderately crowded, so she would be fine if she didn't have to wait at the station for too long. Some light clouds covered the sun, muting the colors around her. Compared to the neon extravaganza of the arcade, the dullness was a welcome source of relaxation. Now, she just had to figure out where she was going.

"Hey! Wait up!"

He… followed her? People usually didn't follow her when she left.

"Yo, sorry about that. We can play something else. Also… you doing okay?" Ryuji caught up to her, and for the first time she noticed that he had a slight limp. She had noticed the way he was looking at her throughout the day was off, but she finally placed it as 'concern.' Did she really look that bad? At least, she thought, her theory of him being emotionally aware seemed to be right.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ryuji hesitated. His lips were still pulling towards the smiling position, but that didn't seem to be on purpose. He was just a smiley person. "Well, I dunno, you seemed off earlier. You did kick a vending machine."

"True."

"Like, you don't need to tell me what's going on. But, like, Akira is really invested in how you're doing, and we're on the same team, so I guess it kinda spreads. Like osmosis or some shit." The boy grinned sheepishly and pulled out his phone. "The boss also sent me a few messages asking if I had seen you, so yeah. He seems worried. You may wanna check your phone."

She reached down into her jacket pocket, but froze. "Hey, Ryuji?"

"Sup?"

"Do Akira and Makoto like each other?"

A wide range of emotions crossed his face in a split second. He snorted out a laugh, but it was just short when is eyes widened in what could have been a realization, followed by a roll of the eyes indicating some sort of dismissal, before finally settling on a look of confusion.

"I don't have an effin' clue. They're a weird pair, and Akira is so fuckin smooth with _everybody_ that I can't tell when he's actually tryna flirt with someone. He hasn't mentioned her to me in the lovey-dovey kinda sense, if that's what you're asking."

' _That answer does nothing for me.'_

She almost said that. Almost. She was too busy coming to terms with the fact that she was, in fact, jealous of the Queen she admired to much. It wasn't exactly a feeling she was used to. But like… she really liked both her and Akira. Akira in a different way, one that she hadn't quite thought through yet. She just didn't like them together. She felt like she did when she had to fight for her mother's attention way back when… alone, and wanting more. She just wanted respect.

Only respect.

That was it.

Respect.

Yeah.

Right?

Before she could finish doubting herself, a pair of fingers snapped right in front of her.

"Yo, Earth to Futaba? Morgana got your tongue?" Ryuji waved his hand in front of her face, close enough to cause her to wince.

"Sorry, I was thinking."

"I could see that. Hey, I'm supposed to meet up with Ann here in a few minutes, you wanna chill with us?"

Futaba checked her social battery. It was drained.

"I'll just head home. Thanks, though."

Ryuji smiled at her. "Alright, kid. Later!"

 _Kid._

Again with the 'kid.'

But she still smiled and waved, despite herself. It was only after his dash of blonde hair disappeared into the LSD-trip of an arcade that she checked her phone.

 _Twelve message, two missed calls, one voicemail._

Wow. None of the messages even came from the group chat. She scanned her fingerprint and opened her messages.

 _Two from Akira, ten from Makoto. Two missed calls from Makoto. One voicemail from Makoto._

Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over the young girl. Makoto cared. She really cared. She could get caught up in the planning aspect, of course, but Futaba let her anxiety run with her and blind her to the truth of the matter. Makoto went out of her way to talk to all of her teachers because of her selfish request, and was able to work something out the day she asked her. If the Niijima sister was in a dating sim, Futaba would almost certainly label her 'Best Girl.'

No wonder Akira liked her…

 _No, Futaba, you have no evidence, this is just your nerves talking. Besides, who are you to care about that?_

She quickly checked Akira's messages. He asked where she was, because Makoto mentioned being worried about her or something to him, then, apparently, Ryuji texted back, so he just told her to have fun.

Makoto, however, seemed a lot more stressed. Futaba poured over the worried texts as the people of Central Street moved around her, and her feelings of guilt doubled, tripled, even quadrupled.

" _Hey, Akira and I are done talking. Where did you go?"_

Simple enough.

" _Futaba? Are you okay? If you got stressed being out by yourself, just tell me where you are and I'll come get you."_

Screw a dating sim, what if she just dated Makoto for real?

" _Did we do something wrong? You're usually really good at responding to texts, so I'm worried."_

" _Akira just texted me saying you're with Ryuji. He may be a bit stupid, but he's a good guy. You should have let me know, though, I could have brought you your stuff. Sorry if me worrying worried you. With us being who we are, I just like being careful. I'm glad nothing happened to you."_

She was worried. Futaba made Makoto worry. It was a bittersweet feeling. The next couple of texts were the same thing; Makoto must have somehow figured out that Futaba was annoyed with them earlier. The Queen was too smart for her own good.

" _I'm sorry that we did not include you more in our meeting. It was not a planned event, and I had decided that it was too early to do any serious research on any of them. We were looking for what type of person whose heart we would want to steal, rather than their crimes themselves. I was still annoyed from the council meeting, and did not know how to include you. We have a smaller list of names for you to look in to. Again, sorry. I didn't mean to blow you off."_

"How the fuck did she figure that out…" Futaba muttered. The Queen's brain was terrifying. She decided to check the voicemail.

" _Hey, Futaba… Listen, if you want, you could come over for dinner. I know you and Sis have some history, but she really wants to make amends and I want to make up for earlier today. So just… call me back when you get this, okay?"_

Time with Makoto didn't sound that bad… and Sae had a decent redemption arc. Decent. Not great. But decent.

Futaba may have had a phone ever since Sojiro took her in from her bastard of an uncle, but this would be the first time that she called someone who wasn't him.

Makoto picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"H-hi, Queen. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry! You're at the arcade, right? Or around there? I'll take my sister's work car, we live right by the area."

"I can wal-"

"No. Go to the arcade and wait. I'll be right there."

Before Futaba could even agree, the line went dead. If she could summon her Necronomicon here, should could just fly over… she wouldn't even need the address, her Persona would just know. She did have her address, actually, but didn't commit it to memory. She ripped all of the Phantom Thieves' info when she took on the guise of Alibaba, but it was all on her laptop anyways.

* * *

"Hey, Mako-chan?"

"Yes, Futaba?"

"Why don't you have a motorcycle IRL?"

' _WHY DID I SAY IRL OUT LOUD DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT-"_

Makoto pursed her lips in thought. They were stuck in traffic, and the Prez's fingers were tapping on the steering wheel with a restrained impatience. "I don't know. I don't really want one, I guess."

"But like, wouldn't it be cool to just…. _VROOOM!"_ Futaba gestured wildly to enhance the sound, earning a small chuckle from Makoto. The redhead swelled with inner pride.

"That's what Johanna is for. I don't really like driving in the city, anyways."

"Ehh? But don't you wanna be a policewoman? Don't you have to drive for that?"

A second thought paralled her speech: " _Shit, I made her go out of her way for me and do something she doesn't enjoy doing I knew it I'm just a burden to all of them-"_

"Yes, but I'd be doing it to help people, and that more than makes up for some annoying traffic, wouldn't you think?"

"That… makes sense." A brief silence washed over them, but Futaba made sure that it stayed 'brief.' "Hey, what're we having for dinner?"

"Well, I figured I would try to get you to expand your horizons beyond curry. Especially for a growing girl like yourself, I thought that bringing together something rich but healthy was the best way to go. Unfortunately, I haven't gone to the store in a couple of days, so it's not a perfectly planned meal, per say, but I have some of Haru's vegetable, along with some other leftovers, that I thought would go really well together in a stir fry."

"Ooooh, yum!"

Inside, Futaba was grimacing. She forgot that Makoto was a total health nut. She probably made her stir fry with water, too. The hacker just some sweet-and-salty goodness, with spice! Lots and lots of spice! But she was better than that. Besides, she told the group that she liked organic food way back when they were trying to make her more comfortable. She may have lied a little bit back then, organic was just the first word that came to mind… but that didn't matter! She was a respectable adult, not just a 'growing girl,' and she would eat what was put in front of her without complaint!

* * *

Which, to her surprise, was exactly what ended up happening. It didn't pack the same punch as Futaba was used to, but the stir fry was definitely a good one! She knew that she had to start eating healthier, but, she figured, as long as she wasn't just eating garbage ALL of the time, what could go wrong? Her metabolism seemed to be good enough to handle all the types of food she could ever want to try (which was a lot of different kinds of food).

' _Good enough to keep any boobs off of me, too.'_ She didn't want to be Ann, that just seemed like a lot of shoulder pain, but maybe just a little something like Makoto? Anything?

If character creation were a thing in real life, she would have made herself much more attractive, rather than the walking plank she was now. It was probably from her dad's side, anyways…

She really wished she could just erase everything that reminded her of her father. The orange hair, the cheeks that would never lose their baby fat, her general lankiness... that could all just disappear. Every time she looked in the mirror, she was reminded that she took after him, and she had never even really MET him. She gathered all of that from pictures she found online.

The ambical silence that had formed between the two girls was broken by a buzz from Makoto's phone. The older, more refined girl glanced at the message. "Oh, Sis is nearly home… One moment, I'm going to go warm her plate up. Would you like to join me in the main room?"

Futaba pulled herself out from her thoughts, mentally gasping as she reached the surface. "O-oh, yes!"

She would have to see Sae again. That woman… she was mean to Sojiro, threatened him by using her. It wasn't right. But, after seeing the inside of her heart… it made some sort of twisted sense. Sae had apologized, and she meant it, but Futaba just couldn't get over it for some reason. She was just uncomfortable around the prosecutor.

"Hey," Makoto looked back at her as they walked down the hall, "Have you let the Chief know where you are? I'm a bit worn out from today and thought you could ask him if you could just spend the night here. The trains are going to stop running soon, anyways."

Futaba balked. "Y-you mean, like a s-s-sleepover?"

Makoto didn't even blink at her overreaction. "Yes, like a sleepover."

"I-I didn't bring any stuff for it, and don't really want to get in your way, it would just be more of a hassle…"

"Of course it wouldn't!" the younger Niijima sister smiled as she pulled a plate of stir fry from the microwave. She held her hand over it, gauging its warmth, and nodded lightly as it met her standards. "We have plenty of places for you to sleep, and Sis has travel-sized versions of any toiletry you could ever need! Besides, both of us seem to be people who would benefit from a bit more girl talk in our lives, don't you think?"

' _Girl talk?'_

"A-alright, but don't get mad at me if I snore!"

' _As in, talking about boys, right? That's what the articles say.'_

Akira popped into her head.

' _What am I supposed to do if she asks about that? I don't know anything about love! Am I supposed to ask her, or does she ask me?'_

' _I don't want to know the answer.'_

' _Wait… love?'_

"Is that what this feeling is?"

Makoto looked up as she set the plate down on the table. "What was that, Futaba-chan?"

"N-nothing! It was nothing! Nothing at all!"

There was a flash of… concern? Again? Why was everyone worrying about her today? She didn't need to be worried about. She was strong on her own. "If you don't want to talk about anything, that's fine, but just remember that I am here if you need me, okay? I know going back to school can be stressful, and that Akira and I should have been more inclusive of you today. But I am your friend, first and foremost."

' _Semantics. Words. Words, words, words.'_

No! Futaba pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She was accepted, and she had friends, why couldn't she accept that herself?

"Thanks! Just needed the old social battery recharge, you know? People kinda suck."

That got a smile out of the Prez. "We've sure seen the worst of the worst of them, haven't we?"

They naturally ceased their Phantom Thief talk when the door opened, even though Sae already knew about their escapades. She was the reason their leader got out of jail, after all. Apparently, even after something like that, the normal goings-ons of the real world could still grate the prosecutor to her core.

"I am going to string the new SIU Director up by his old, wrinkled penis! That fucking incompetent bastard is already trying to sweep things under the rug and pretend that the Phantom Thieves never existed! Then, he has the GALL to tell me to take time off and get a husband! As if I need another stupid man-baby in my life!"

The red-eyed squall froze under the worried gazes of the two teenagers.

"Oh. Futaba is already here."

Makoto nodded.

"I thought I would have a few minutes to rant."

Her sister shook her head.

"Huh."

"I mean," Futaba said, "I wouldn't have any problems with it, if you still wanted to."

Sae blinked with consideration. Her mental cogs churned, but she didn't move. "I think the mood might already have passed." The prosecutor pulled herself into her normal, dignified pose and tried to put on a straight face. Unfortunately, a pink tint on her cheeks betrayed her. "Thank you for making dinner, Makoto."

"Of course, Sis. You must have had a long day."

"I think," she started, paused, and continued, "that I might go take a bath. I'm glad you could be here, Futaba, and apologies for my outburst."

"Oh, no, it makes sense."

Sae nodded at the young girl, and somehow it felt like they had a true connection. Futaba couldn't place what made her feel that, but for some reason the tension she felt initially just disappeared. The silence was still heavy with awkwardness, but Sae ignored it was practiced ease. She walked over, picked up the plate of stir fry, and retreated to the bathroom.

Futaba waited until the water started running. "Did she just-"

"She does that sometimes, yes."

"But, like, in the bath?"

The younger sibling nodded.

"That's gotta be a glitch in her programming…"

Futaba thought about asking if Makoto ever found pieces of broccoli or some other random food bits clinging to her hair or some _other_ places, but decided to just leave that line of questioning be. Instead, the younger Niijima took the reigns.

"Hey, Futaba…"

"What's up, Queen?"

Makoto shifted slightly, and a blush grew on her cheeks. Futaba's first thought was " _Moe,"_ and she didn't get to her second thought before her Queen spoke.

"I don't know if Akira told you, but I've been trying to, erm, expand my horizons recently. Do you think… you could teach me how to play some video games?"

Futaba's eyes shot fully open, and every cell in her body roared with new energy. Video games? Yes, her stronghold. Her domain. And she would welcome anyone into her world. Hell, if her real-life and online friends overlapped… those would be true friends, real keepers.

She flipped her hair with pride. "Why, you should have asked me sooner. I bring but one rule to the table!"

Red eyes watched her patiently, with a hint of fear. "Y-yes?"

"Look at me."

She was already looking at her, but Futaba needed the reference to be perfect.

"I am the queen now."

* * *

Without a console of some kind, Futaba was limited in what she could do, but those limitations were nothing when brought face-to-face with her custom-built laptop. She booted it up, plopped Makoto down, and began going through every single game she owned.

"This one is a top-down dungeon crawler, with a bit of a vintage flair. It's simple, easy to run, and single-player. A good one to dip your toes into."

"I see…"

"A bit boring, though, and its story is lacking. Now, _this_ one, oh, this is a classic."

"Ah-"

"But if you want to start talking classics, we need to go way back. Here, lemme pull up an emulator…"

"Futaba-"

"Codenames, Apprentice!"

"Queen-"

Futaba couldn't prevent the grin that cut itself from ear to ear. "Yes, trainee?"

"Should I actually, um, play one?"

A beat.

"Huh. I… guess I forgot about that part."

" _I got too excited and fucked it all up now she'll never want to play video games with me ever again shit shit shit-"_

Makoto's voice was warm despite the overload of information Futaba had thrust upon her. "No worries. I found the mystery one you brought up a little while ago pretty interesting, could we start with that, please?"

"Y-yeah! Of course! As I should have expected from our planning extraordinaire!" Inside, Futaba was still screaming at herself. She was being overwhelming and she needed to calm down. If she showed this much enthusiasm about 'stupid games,' then maybe everyone was right in just thinking that she was a kid...

She stopped herself from saying that learning about these really niche mystery games wouldn't help Makoto connect with very many other people. The elitist in her really wanted to tear apart the game's flimsy plot and shitty graphics, but she managed to keep ahold of herself. This was about Makoto trying out games for herself. She could get to the more popular ones after she got the hang of gaming as a whole. And, if she still needed help finding games, she would still come to Futaba, as long as the hacker didn't scare her away. So that's just what she had to do: not scare her away.

" _I just wanna get into Necronomicon and fly up into the sky and sit there."_

* * *

"AHA! I KNEW IT!"

Futaba stirred, absently realizing her face was pressed up against the cold wood of the Niijima's coffee table. Judging by the sharp pain running along her cheek, she had dozed off without taking her glasses off, and would have a red line running up and down her face for the net five minutes or so. The pain was only annoying at worst, so she must have only been asleep for about half an hour. Shut-in timekeeping at its finest.

"Futa- Queen, I did it! I brought the killer to justice! He thought he would have gotten away with it, too, but he forgot one damning piece of evidence-"

Futaba yawned and stretched. One damning piece of evidence? That meant… "If the credits haven't rolled, the game isn't over."

The man had been framed, the murder weapon was a fake, and he had an airtight, albeit embarrassing, alibi involving two prostitutes and some farm animals. Makoto wasn't at the point where he revealed that, yet, which meant-

"Oh."

Yep. And now…

"Oh my…"

The game was oddly graphic.

"That's…"

"Disgusting."

"Yeah."

Futaba took off her glasses and slumped back into her arms, listening to Makoto gasp and move with involuntary reactions to having the true plot begin to show itself. Suddenly, the brown-haired girl closed the laptop and rubbed her eyes.

"I will continue tomorrow. The investigation may not be over, but no one actually solves a case like that in a night."

Maybe not in real life, but Futaba beat it four hours after it was released, at it was advertised as a free ten-hour experience. Maybe if they put more thought into their actually writing she wouldn't have just skipped the dialogue…

"I'm proud of you, my apprentice," the younger girl mumbled, pulling her jacket closer around you.

"Thank you, Queen," the true Queen replied.

"I'm no queen, though…"

Makoto's breath caught in her through, and that sound was all Futaba needed to know she had messed up _yet again._ She wasn't supposed to have said that out loud. Now Makoto would worry…

"Neither am I. It's just a codename, remember? I'm just a Student Council President who's in over her head."

Makoto Niijima… thought she was in over her head? How? "But you have everything together, don't you?"

She couldn't see the red-eyed girl without her glasses, but she could tell that the aura around her had become sad, less dignified. "We're both part of the Phantom Thieves. Do you really think any of us have everything together? Hell, even our fearless leader is a mess."

 _'Why'd she mention Akira? She didn't have to. Is he just on her mind? She must like him, and if she likes him, then where does that leave her? Alone again?_

"I guess you have a point there."

Even with her eyes closed, she could tell that Makoto had turned her phone screen on. The soft blue hue relaxed her, made her feel at home.

"Even so, we've taken down people far more powerful than ourselves. Kaneshiro, Kamoshida, Madarame, even Sis… You're really making a difference in the world, you know. Who cares if we're royalty? This Meta-Nav… it gave us the power to fight back against adults, against oppressors. We'll use this to bring justice into the world. And, even if we mess up, at least we'll be able to see our names in the history books. Even if we get caught, we've already helped so many people, and people will know. Imagine that. Phantom Thief, Futaba Sakura."

" _Candidate Found."_

.

.

.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, here we go. As Morgana would say, What're your thoughts?


	2. Chapter 2

"Please don't tell-"

Makoto ignored the young girl's pleas, grabbing her cerulean coat from its hook.

"They can't know! I'll get better, I promise, I- I can fix this!""

Futaba jumped away from the brown-haired girl, Makoto's newly-stolen phone in her hand. She huddled around the device, creating an impromptu protective shell against any potential retribution. Her fingers flared and within a second the half-finished text to the Phantom Thieves group was but an electric memory. The dark room seemed to hold its breath for a single second. Two girls, both geniuses in their own rights, formed the perfect tableau of a cornered animal and the diligent huntress. The huntress, calm and calculated, as always, made the first move.

Makoto lashed out and slid her hand through Futaba's pitiful defenses. The redhead had already acknowledged that she would not be able to take her elder on, and instead of resisting, she retreated until her back brushed against a piece of furniture. The second she felt her cue, Futaba dropped the smartphone away from Makoto's prying reach and, as it hit the ground, kicked it under the black leather couch behind her.

"You can't tell them..."

Makoto ignored her. She attempted to push Futaba out of the way so she could reach under the couch, but the little hacker put up as much resistance as she could physically muster.

"I- I don't need help," she pleaded, quaking with exertion. "I'm a Phantom Thief, right? That means I'm strong, right? Hey, right?"

The pushing stopped. Red eyes met hers. Concern. Worry. Sympathy.

"I'm j-just as strong as you guys. You don't need to worry about me, okay? I can deal with my own cognition!"

Again with those eyes. Futaba couldn't help herself anymore. A single shuddered gasp broke her emotional walls, and all of the anxiety and panic and frustration at her own uselessness and inadequacy gave way to streams of tears.

' _This isn't going to convince her that you're strong…'_

So she grit her teeth and talked through it.

"I can h-handle my own problems. Remember how I was-" her voice choked to a halt, but she shook her head wildly when Makoto tried to come closer. After a couple of shaky breaths, she continued with her head held high. "Remember how I was able to make the ballistae last time?" She looked her Queen in the eyes and smiled. "It would be embarrassing if I couldn't steal my own treasure, right?"

"Futaba…"

' _STOP PATRONIZING ME!'_

She didn't say that out loud. Makoto didn't do anything do deserve her anger. She was just worried about a friend, after all. But there was a fire burning inside her, and it desperately needed somebody to set alight. Something switched in her. Suddenly, she couldn't cry anymore. She didn't want to do _anything_ anymore. She was done.

"J-just, please. Keep it a secret. I can still help the team. This won't change anything, I promise. I'll figure it out. It's my cognition, right? I know better than anyone what goes on inside my head." She tried to play her trademark smirk, but one look at the look in Makoto's eyes told her it didn't work.

Futaba winced as the strategist placed a hand on her shoulder. She knew that it was supposed to feel comforting, but every instinct inside of her screamed at her to push it away. Makoto had already done so much for her. They had ALL already done so much for her. Why did they still insist on doing more? Why were they always looking out for her?

"Please."

Her final, broken sigh of desperation seemed to change something in the queen's heart. Slowly, like she was trying not to spook an injured animal, Makoto let go and took a step back from the door. Futaba still couldn't look her in the eyes, she still didn't want to see _that look_ anymore, but the tension in her body released little by little.

"How long have you known?" Makoto asked. Always the strategist, gathering information.

"I didn't know there was a Palace until just now, same as you."

' _But you suspected.'_

Futaba knew that she would find the loophole, and find it she did. "You may not have known there was a Palace, but when did you know there was a problem with your cognition?"

The exact moment came back to her, as clear as day. Bright to the point of being blinding, like the sun tended to be after locking oneself in the darkness for days on end.

" _I CAN'T SWIM!"_

Of course she couldn't, right? Her mother was always working, and without another parent at home all she could really do was stay at home. There was no time for an adventure to the pool. But for some reason, in that moment, even through the adrenaline of having finally defeated Shido's shadow, a dark thought clawed at her.

" _Without them, you wouldn't even be alive."_

There was nothing thankful about that realization. No joy at having friends who brought her out of her shut-in life, who dispelled her hallucinations, and brought her peace with her mother. By all means, a thought like that should have bought her a wave of gratefulness. It should have made her happy to think that, wow, these people who barely knew her went out of their way to save her. But, in that moment, as Shido's cruise ship blew up around them, she realized that she was the weak link. She was the anchor that would drag them down. They always had to keep her in mind, keep her protected, because she was weak, and small, and frail.

She couldn't swim, so they had to hold her head above water.

That night, after they returned to the real world, Futaba had sat with the MetaNav open in front of her for hours. She knew all she had to do was say her name, but no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't come out. Futaba kept staring at the dead phone even as the sun cut through her blinds that morning. She didn't need confirmation for what she already knew.

"I-" her voice cracked, and any strength she was trying to convince herself she had shattered. "DAMN IT!"

More crying, more tears, more affirmation that she was the baby of the team. The annoying, needy little sister. And in swept Makoto to hug her, always holding it together, always sure of herself, someone who could be a Phantom Thief and focus on college and actually go to school and go outside without worrying about all of the people because she was strong and smart and pretty and compared to that it's no wonder that no one respected-

"Shh, Futaba, it's okay."

' _NO, STOP, LET GO OF ME!'_

She didn't even have the strength to push her away.

"Why am I so pathetic?"

' _The more you admit being weak, the weaker you'll become, and the weaker they'll think you are."_

"You're not pathetic, Futaba. You're a brilliant hacker, and great friend…"

" _Again with the semantics. It's all words. They just need you to do some hacking and stand back as the real Phantom Thieves do the work. They only saved you so you could hack for them, anyways. You're a key item that they only need for one dungeon. A gimmick at best."_

Futaba couldn't see her face, but she felt Makoto's restrained nod. She always nodded when she had reached her conclusion or decided what she was going to do. Futaba just wondered if she could open her phone and fry the girl's signal before she could send a text to the others…

"I won't tell anyone, but you have to talk to me about what's going on."

" _I don't have to say anything. I'm difficult, remember? Hard to talk to, right? The one who makes team meetings awkward is me, after all."_

"Apparently I have another Palace. I guess the last one was just a fake out for the True End, huh?"

Makoto couldn't help but let a little smile out. "At least you still have your wit. Do you know what could have caused it to form?"

A pause, and then: "Yeah."

More sympathy. Futaba just wanted to lock herself in her room. This wasn't how she expected her first sleepover to go. It was a bit melodramatic, from her perspective. She would have much rather dragged Makoto through an MMO all night instead confront her suppressed psychological problems.

"Do you… have any idea about what the other two keywords might be?"

Futaba chuckled dryly. "I bet I would get them on my first try."

Even now, she was being difficult. Even now, Futaba just wanted to protect that small modicum of pride she had spent these past few months cultivating. Even now, she acknowledged that her budding self-worth was what led to this in the first place. She knew _exactly_ what her distortion was, and where it came from. If she was already aware of how problematic her worldview was, all she needed to do was change it, right? It should be easy. No need to drag everyone else into it.

Especially when they were the root of it in the first place.

Futaba pushed Makoto away and crouched down. After a bit of blind searching, her fingers brushed over the cold surface of the third-year's phone, and she pulled it out from its hiding place. She handed it to Makoto and motioned for her to unlock it.

Makoto nodded. She still seemed shaken. She was a problem-solver, and if Futaba guessed correctly, the fact that she was actively trying to keep her problem from being solved threw the chestnut-haired beauty off balance. All because Futaba couldn't help but be the problemed-child.

' _Child, kid, brat, annoying-little-sister-type.'_

Yeah. She knew _exactly_ what her distortion was. But, apparently, that didn't change anything.

Makoto handed the bespectacled girl her phone, and under the soft white light, Makoto's stress became even more apparent. A miniscule layer of sweat shone against the electronic radiance, and small creases were forming on her forehead. Her red eyes were wide with worry. They contrasted strikingly with her paler-than-normal face, and just from looking at her posture Futaba could tell the girl was nauseous. Futaba was making her nauseous. The guilt of it made her want to throw up.

' _This wouldn't happen if they didn't have to worry about you.'_

"Futaba Sakura. Hideout in Leblanc. Day-care."

" _Destination Found. Too far away, navigation paused."_

"Oh…"

She watched it click. 'Day-care.' Once Makoto heard the distortion, everything locked into place.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Futaba remained silent. The darkness of the room really helped with the depressing ambience. Now all she needed was some rain, and she could be on a dumb daytime drama. Some lame coming-of-age story, probably.

"Pride, probably."

' _Stupid, useless, bratty, pride.'_

"Can… can I at least tell Akira?"

' _It always comes back to Akira.'_

"No."

They stood in silence for a moment, and then Makoto turned and walked over to the dining table. She pulled out a chair, but ended up just standing over it. She was probably trying to come up with a plan, a plan to reveal Futaba's secret in the way least betraying of her moral code. No matter what Futaba said, Akira would find out, and then he would start worrying about her again. She wanted to prove that she could be okay without him, and if he was babying her...

' _The runt of the team, the problemed child, but not important enough to be the damsel in distress.'_

It was almost funny. The tomb of Futaba the Pharaoh was just the surface of it. Sure, that dealt with her hallucinations and her distorted memories of her mother. But… that was just level one. In retrospect, that was mainly external. The men in black suits caused it. It was such a small part of her entire cognition. When she was in there, talking to her own shadow, a thought kept nagging at the back of her mind.

' _Is this it? Are these really all of my issues, bundled up into a neat package with a cute bow, ready to be set straight by the Phantom Thieves?'_

"What are we supposed to do, then?"

Futaba let herself fall back and slide down the back of the sofa, huddling herself into a ball on the floor. Despite this, she mustered the best smile she could. "I told you before, right? This is my quest. I'm gonna take this one on solo."

Makoto bit her lip. "One week. If your Palace is still there in one week, I'm telling the team."

"I've never really been a speed-runner, but I guess there's always time to learn."

* * *

Makoto listened. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Soft and light, but no longer shallow. Futaba had to be asleep by now. Besides, they had been lying in silence for at least two hours. It took everything Makoto had to stay awake this late, but if it was for a friend, she would do it. Slowly, quietly, her hand snaked out from under her blanket, inched over to her bedside table, and latched onto her phone. Still no movement from Futata; her mission was going as-planned. She pulled her phone back to her, and submerged herself fully under her covers.

Makoto would not be fooled. Caution took priority. Even if Futaba was fully asleep, she had to assume getting out of bed or making any unnecessary movements at all would wake the younger girl up. Her comforter-cocoon would be her base of operations. She unlocked her screen, lowered the brightness as much as possible, and began scrolling through her messages. This wouldn't be going to a group chat, no. She respected her promise to Futaba, and while she wasn't going to betray that trust (per say), she had to make a few… confirmations, as it were.

So she reached out to someone she never really talked to outside of Phantom Thieves business: Ryuji Sakamoto.

" _Hello, Ryuji. Are you awake?"_

To her surprise, a chat bubble popped up almost immediately.

" _Yeah. What's up, Prez?"_

" _You spent time with Futaba-chan today, correct?"_

" _Yeah. I kicked her ass at the arcade."_

Makoto briefly considered calling him out for omitting the whole truth. Futaba was a very proud individual who made sure Makoto knew that she had 'rekt that noob' in a fighting game. However, she decided that was unimportant to the investigation at hand.

" _I see. Could you tell if there was anything bothering her?"_

Of course, Makoto also already knew the answer to that. She had just witnessed an emotional breakdown, after all.

The chat bubble appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. Makoto sighed. She really had no reason to be doing this. She knew the keywords to Futaba's Palace, and through those already had a pretty clear idea of what was troubling her. She promised not to say anything, but that just felt… wrong. So, she was compromising. Makoto Niijima was the kind of person who had to talk through her problems, so even if she didn't reveal entirely what was going on, she still needed to bounce her thoughts off of others. She didn't know how to handle helping someone who knew they needed help, but didn't want it.

" _I mean, there was definitely SOMETHING up. But she's just weird like that sometimes, ya know? She did mention something about-"_

The text cut off.

" _Nah, never mind, it's not important."_

" _What is it?"_

If Ryuji knew something that could help her help Futaba and refused to share it, she would 'accidentally' run him over with Johanna. Maybe more than once.

" _Nah, it's nothing."_

" _Ryuji…"_

" _I plead the fourth."_

" _This isn't America, and that's the wrong amendment."_

" _School's hard, cut me a break, damnit!"_

Makoto would get on him about his studies another time. " _You're avoiding the question."_

" _I'm not smart, but I know enough to know that I probably shouldn't tell you."_

Specifically her? Or just because she was on the team? " _It would really help if you told me."_

A pause. Time ticked by, and nothing changed. Did he just stop respond-

" _Fine, damn it! She asked me if you and Akira were, like, thinging, okay?"_

Oh.

" _Oh."_

Oh.

" _Yo, you'd better not rat me out, got it?"_

Suddenly Makoto didn't really want to talk anymore. " _Thank you for the information, goodnight."_

She turned her phone off and quietly returned it to its place on her bedside table. Her eyes still needed to readjust to the darkness of her room, but she could still pick out Futaba's balled-up form on the floor. She was on the portable mattress pad Sae would use whenever she had to sleep at the office, and had somehow surrounded herself with a random accumulation of the Niijima sisters' old pillows and stuffed animals. She looked so… small.

So, there was a jealousy aspect to it, as well. Makoto didn't know what to do with this new information. She didn't _not_ like Akira, and her feelings were not going to change, but she didn't want to hurt Futaba any more. Besides, she wasn't actively pursuing anything with him. She had so many other expectations, so much on her schedule already, that a boyfriend just wasn't feasible. She wasn't very experienced with love, either. She always thought she could just wait until college… Just how was she supposed to approach this?

In hindsight, she wished she had accepted Ryuji's initial opposition and allowed him to keep his mouth shut. This didn't do anything to help her fix the issue; if anything, it just made the situation unnecessarily contrived and convoluted. Her first priority was to help Futaba, so she would just focus on that. She couldn't get caught up in a love triangle, not when there were bigger problems to deal with. By the morning, Makoto Niijima would have her mission refined and ready to execute. Futaba couldn't protest a change of heart if she didn't know it was happening.

* * *

"You think I could bother you for a cup, too? All this grading is going to be the death of me."

"Of course," Akira said, smiling brightly, "and, if you wanted, I could even make it on the house."

Sojiro froze over the sink, a half-cleaned plate of curry in his hand. "Keeping this place afloat is hard enough as it-"

But this offer intrigued Kawakami, and she eyed the boy carefully. "What are you playing at, Kurusu?" There was caution in her voice, but she wasn't adverse to the idea of striking a deal.

"Well, as we both know, I've missed a couple of days recently..."

His homeroom teacher raised an eyebrow. That was a heavy understatement, but she allowed it. "Go on."

The young barista saw is opening and took it. Akira summoned the gods of charm and kindness, fusing their power to create one all-powerful smile. It was as if he caught a beam of pure sunlight as it came down from heaven, mixed it with joy, and then released his positivity cocktail as a wave of untainted happiness over the rustic interior of Leblanc. No one could withstand this level of charisma; even Shadows bowed before him and begged to become one of his many masks.

"Do you think you could add a few points to my final exam score?"

"And get fired? No thanks, I'll pay."

Time stopped. The Joker, master of charm, felt the defeat sink into him. He fell to his knees, coming face to face with the dishes and other items stored under Leblanc's bar. There he stayed for several long seconds, until Sojiro came over and gave him a little kick.

"Let me die here."

"Fine, but can you move so I can grab another filter?"

"I'VE GOT IT!"

Yusuke roared to life, shocking everyone in the store. After hours of staring at a blank canvas, inspiration finally struck him. He rocketed to his feet and, canvas in hand, blazed a trail towards the exit. He threw the door open with enthusiasm, ringing the hanging bell with wild tunes of creativity. He turned to face his audience.

"I must thank everyone here for their support in my endeavors. You have just witnessed the birth of my new masterpiece! I know what I must do now!"

Sojiro motioned to the empty coffee cups that littered his former table. "Pay?"

"Sadly, I don't have any money to my name. I will, however, return to pay back my debt on a later date. Thank you for your understanding, gracious Chief."

With that, Yusuke Kitagawa exited into the night.

"I swear, if people don't start paying for my coffee…"

Kawakami coughed and slid some money over the counter. She didn't look up from her papers, but Sojiro could tell from a glance that there was a generous tip involved.

"I guess it takes a hard worker to know a hard worker. See, kid," the manager said, nudging the downtrodden Akira with the tip of his boot, "if you had to work to live here, and I mean, _really_ work, I bet you wouldn't go out offering free cups to all of your friends."

"The younger generation is so spoiled," Kawakami mused. After a beat, her pen froze mid-mark. A realization dawned on her. "Holy shit. I'm getting old."

"Happens to the best of us," Sojiro smirked, slowly pouring a new cup of his specialty House Blend for her. "Kid, go grab the eccentric's dishes before they dry."

Akira jumped back to his feet, previous shame forgotten. "You got it, boss-man."

Morgana watched his movements carefully from the rafters, but decided to hold off on taunting the poor barista. Besides, the actually-a-human-not-a-cat was much more comfortable just lazing about. He still had another twenty minutes before he had to remind Akira to go to sleep, so for now it was just a waiting game..

"Oh yeah, Chief, have you heard from Futaba yet today?"

"Futaba? It's a Saturday, right?"

Akira deftly moved towards the sink, dishes in hand. "Yeah. She decided to come to Shujin today, and I'm pretty sure she ended up staying at Makoto's."

"W-wait, what?" Sojiro sputtered. "You _did_ just say it was Saturday, right? Even now, after her… change, she never leaves her room on Saturdays! It's-"

The specific gaming jargon escaped him. Something about 'XP.' All the old man knew was that, try as he might to get her to go outside, Futaba would shut herself in her room to play some game or another for twenty-four hours straight.

"So she didn't tell you?"

"No! Geez, I told her to let me know about things like this!" he growled. Sojiro was annoyed, but Akira could see that the older man was also welling up with something akin to pride. Even after her change of heart, Futaba gravitated towards her home, and would only go out for small periods of time. Having her reach the point where she could stay at other people's houses must have been an achievement for him.

Akira deftly dried the last of the cups. "Well, that's where she is. In case you ended up wondering."

"Oh, is she that redhead following Makoto around today?" Kawakami inquired, only partly interested. "Looked like a deer in the headlights all day, if I'm being honest."

Sojiro sighed. "Well, she was there, and that's good enough for now. I'll make some special curry for her tomorrow."

The teacher hummed in response, allowing her focus drift to the excellent Sakura-Ishiki curry that she devoured twenty minutes ago. "You make some good food, Manager-san," she commented, absently glancing at her watch.

After giving herself a second to register, she shot to her feet, knocking the stool down with a solid _crack_. "Hey… is your clock off?"

Sojiro didn't even give the clock a cursory glance. "It's an antique. It doesn't actually work."

"Fuck."

Sojiro calmly gathered his hat, coat, and car keys. "You miss your train? I can give you a ride, if you want. Just give me a second to bring the car around."

With a jingle of the bell, the manager disappeared into the night. Kawakami, on the verge of protesting, stood and took a moment to collect herself after the near-panic attack.

"I guess that's that, then," Akira said as he finished placing the clean dishes in their cabinets.

"I guess so," she responded. A minute later, Sojiro's yellow bug pulled up and the teacher went on her way.

Akira may have defeated monsters, taken down irredeemable human beings from all walks of life, and successfully faked his own death, but nothing filled him with the same amount of happiness as closing time at Leblanc. It was blissful and serene, calm and quiet. There were no more customers, just himself and the coffee shop. He allowed himself a small smile.

He leisurely made his way over to the hanging clock and reset it to the proper time. Antique, his ass. Sojiro owed him a nice takeout dinner after this one. Playing the wingman for his guardian was awkward enough, but when it involved his homeroom teacher? That was a special level of dedication. Even so, he had a sneaking suspicion that their bond wouldn't deepen quite yet…

"Hey, shouldn't we get some sleep?"

* * *

Futaba woke up feeling like she was lying on a cloud, but that didn't matter because she had a splitting headache that hurt more than a thirty-hour continuous grinding session. After a brief internal debate, she decided to keep her eyes shut for a little while longer.

"This is stupid Inari's fault…"

While that probably wasn't the case, she clearly remembered a point in her dream in which the dreaded evil overlord Inari performed a forty-six hit combo on her character, and with disrespect even the douchebaggiest pro players would shun, skipped the easier and classier finisher to juggle her a couple more times. Even in her dreams, uppercuts hurt.

Even though it would be much more fun to blame Inari for her throbbing head, the rational side of her figured that it probably stemmed from a combination of dehydration (which was pretty common for her, sometimes she forgot put sustenance into her body when on her longer gaming sprees) and the force of many bottled-up emotions. Speaking of emotions...

' _WHY AM I SO MELODRAMATIC AAAAAHHHHHHH!'_

A wave of heat passed coursed through her body as the embarrassment of the previous night hit her full-force. Now that she had gotten a good night's sleep, the young hacker realized that, maybe, she was overreacting just a little bit. She didn't exactly disagree with any of what she said; this was still her problem, and she didn't want the others interfering, and maybe she did have some problems with how the team treated her, and yeah, sure, she had a Palace (again), but that didn't justify a mental breakdown. She just needed to change her own cognition. Easy peasy.

For now, she decided, she would just go along her days like normal. Of course, she would step up and prove to the team that she was useful besides just being a random support character. Futaba would stand on her own two feet, without the constant need for her teammates to fuss over her.

Futaba opened her eyes with a renewed sense of optimistic energy, ready to take the world by storm. Who even needed to go into a Palace to change someone's cognition anyway? If she just faced each day with positivity, she might not even have to go through the whole 'stealing a Treasure' thing!

Unfortunately for her, the headache she had been actively ignoring for the sake of keeping her spirits up was not interested in being blown off. As the world struck her down a peg, Futaba squinted through the pain to check the time on her phone.

' _8 am? Wow. I haven't seen that time in ages.'_

Over her phone, though, she noticed something else that she wasn't seeing: Makoto Niijima.

"Oh fuck."

Futaba's eyes widened even through her head's protests, and she quickly opened her custom-built tracker app that held the Phantom Thieves' locations (and anyone else she needed to find) and scanned the small dots for the Queen icon. Everyone seemed to be in their normal places… wait, why were the Skull and Panther icons in the same place so early in the morning?

' _Lewd.'_

Futaba shook her desire to look through their phone cameras to get the dirty details and focused up on the task at hand. Queen's icon was missing, meaning her phone was either turned off… or she was in the Metaverse.

Makoto didn't even give her a shot. She was probably already waltzing around Futaba's heart right at this very moment-

"Hey, Futaba? Breakfast is ready!"

"H-h-huh?!"

That was definitely Makoto's voice, and, as much as she could see the figure in the door frame without her glasses, definitely Makoto's body. She quickly stifled any inquisitions about the status of her senior's phone, such as to not give away her not-quite-stalking abilities.

The storm had passed, for the most part. Her emotions were much calmer, but Futaba knew from experience that the grey, nagging feeling in the peripheral of her conscious was just waiting for the moment when she slipped up. For now, though, she would just enjoy her breakfast and find a way to prove herself to the team. Maybe, if she found a stroke of inspiration, she could create a way to keep her Palace from showing up on the MetaNav.

But that was a problem for when she got home. "Ooo! Breakfast! What is it? What'd you make?"

Makoto's body seemed to lighten when she saw Futaba's normal liveliness. "It won't be the most extravagant meal, but I do believe that I make some passable breakfast crepes."

"Crepes?" Futaba's excitement boiled over, completely distracting her from her aching skull. "I am SO down!"

Makoto barely stumbled out of Futaba's warpath, and watched her with a light smile on her face as she descended upon the pastries. She just needed to keep Futaba distracted long enough for Ryuji and Ann to return from their scouting mission.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, this is earlier than I thought it would be. My week gets pretty busy after this, though, so I thought it would be better to get this out while I had the time. Now that this train has actually started moving... Thanks for all the support! To my reviewers (Shrek, Cardinal Kiril, and krazyboy89), that positivity really boosted my confidence in this project. To everyone who favorited and followed, I am touched that you think my lil' ole story is worth your time. I'm not the most wonderful writer, but I hope I can live up to your expectations =)

On the Fic as a Whole: I do have this completely outlined. This isn't going to be a story I write on the fly, and just make up whatever for. I have a solid plan. I feel like that's important, so I just wanted to let y'all know.

On Romance: Just know it's not gonna be some overdramatic love triangle. Rather, the drama isn't going to originate from a love triangle. That is not "the point" (whatever that means) of this fic, but romance will still play a part.

On Structure: Most of the story will be told through Futaba's point of view, but as this chapter has probably shown, I will branch out to other characters as needed. There will be an element of comedy, but I'm hoping to keep it unobtrusive when it comes to the main conflict. Meaning, there will be some side stories that begin developing (Like Ryuji and Ann's day-care adventures).

On Updates: First, updates will probably be around this length rather than the length of the previous chapter, in order to make them more attainable for myself. I plan on updating around once every ten days (this being an exception), but reserve the right to have things come up (especially around late March). I just ask for patience in that regard, and I will do my best to maintain a consistent schedule.

So... What're your thoughts?

ND


	3. Chapter 3

Ryuji poked his garishly-yellow head out from the alleyway. Leblanc remained silent, still, and uninhabited by neither cutomers nor part-time employees. Sojiro sat in one of the booths, but he was facing away from the window with his head buried in a newspaper. 'Skull' kept his dark brown eyes fixed on the stairs to the attic. Akira should have freaking left by now. If this weren't a 'sensitive mission,' he would have already stormed in and told the boss all about what was going down with Futaba. Doing something in secret really made him feel like a Phantom Thief, though, and Ryuji couldn't help but crack a smile when he thought about how badass a stakeout made him. Sure, he could be loud, and _may_ have been responsible for Makoto nearly leaking their identities, but hell if he didn't enjoy acting like an honest-to-god thief.

"Ryuji, can we stake out somewhere- I dunno, somewhere else? Like, not in front of the bathhouse?" Ann slumped against the laundromat wall, her hood up and lips pursed in boredom. Why did he have to spend his morning with her, of all people?

Ryuji grimaced. He knew the answer to that, but there was no reason to worry about it now.

"You got Makoto's phone, right?" he asked, eyes still fixed on the old coffee shop.

Ann flipped it on of her pocket and held it up by the corner. "Wish we didn't need it turned off, though. Then I could listen to actual music instead of old men singing in the bath."

"For real, though…" Ryuji wasn't exactly having a great time either; public baths were never really his thing. Like, it was pretty nice to be able to spread out and all, and hell if he wouldn't go for a glance of the other side, but the whole public part just made him shudder. He didn't even feel completely clean after a private bath, how was he supposed to feel after a bath with five or six other men? Greasy, that's what. He needed to go home after that time he went with Yusuke and Akira and wash his hair separately so it didn't turn green or something. His training meant that when he took baths, they were to get clean, not relax. He glanced over at Ann's platinum hair, but she perked up before he could ask her how she maintained it.

"Yo, Skull, Joker's moving."

"Yeah, yeah, I see him!"

"What, you see his reflection in my eyes? I know they're pretty but that's not important!"

"Yeah, whatever!"

She wasn't wrong; Ann Takamaki had some pretty stunning ocean-blue eyes, but he didn't want to feed her ego. If she could stuff he face with cake and not get fat, her ego would probably swell up with any sort of compliment. She needed a metaphorical metabolism to match her real one. Ryuji scowled, but snapped around as the Leblanc bell rang. Akira stepped out in workout clothes, Mona-bag in tow. Akira was off to the Protein Lovers Gym, where he would (not) meet Ryuji for an early-morning workout. He hated lying, but if what Makoto had said about Futaba were true, they needed to keep this on the down-low for a bit.

"Is he gone yet?" Ann poked her head out. She was obviously running low on patience. Ryuji didn't have much left himself, but it was his fault they had to wait so long in the first place, so he didn't want to mention anything in case his partner in crime pieced things together. He scheduled the workout meeting, after all. He just underestimated the time it would take them to get from his home to the hideout.

"Wait a sec… How far did the Prez say he had to be so we don't drag him into this?"

Ann shrugged.

If he had his own phone, Ryuji could've checked, but the Queen had given them very specific instructions to leave their personal phones on and at their homes. Well, Ryuji's home. Where Ann happened to be at the time he received the text. She was just chilling at his apartment at 4 a.m., no big deal.

Ryuji felt his face flush with heat. "Turn her phone on, we're going in."

Ann nodded, trading her aloofness for determination. "Futaba-chan doesn't deserve to go through this again…"

The 'delinquent' nodded. "The poor kid went through so much shit already…"

Ann was right. Futaba didn't deserve this. Not another Palace, not after she had already torn herself to shreds about her mother. If anyone deserved some happiness, she did.

"Alright… the MetaNav is loading up. Going in five."

"Let's kick some Shadow ass!"

The world warped black and red around him. Within the blink of an eye, the distortion cleared.

"Huh."

"This… wasn't what I was expecting."

"No kiddin'."

The cognitive world before them stood in stark contrast to Futaba's tomb. If anything, the environment was the most inviting the two thieves had ever been in; rather than the glaring sun and endless desert, this Palace was surrounded by lush green planes, dotted with a variety of flowers. A light breeze danced its way over the flora, mixing the flowers and grass together into a rainbow lawn. Even Ryuji, who would be the first to admit that he didn't really see the beauty of nature, was awestruck by the pure artistry of the landscape.

The Palace itself seemed small in the presence of such vast freedom. Far off in the distance (yet, Ryuji gratefully noticed, not nearly as far as the pyramids from their last Sakura-contained heist), a homely pink building stood atop a rolling hill. From what he could tell without Futaba or Morgana to give him directions, Ryuji had found their goal.

"Should we get walkin', then?"

Ann snapped her gaze back to their objective, but still let her eyes wander over the natural beauty every now and then. "We should finish scouting as soon as possible so we can start the actual infiltration. For Futaba's sake."

Ryuji nodded. "Right."

His partner-in-crime nodded back, then gave him a quick once-over. "I'm glad she doesn't see us as threats, at least. I don't mean to be a bitch, but at this point… that would hurt a little bit. If she did, I mean."

Ryuji looked down. Yep. He was wearing the same hoodie and athletic sweatpants he put on this morning. "Damn… I was looking forward to letting some steam out."

"Maybe if you told Akira to meet you a little earlier, we wouldn't have had to wait so long, then you wouldn't have all that pent-up male aggression," she said mockingly, then added, "Just a thought." With that final jab, she started leisurely walking towards the distant cottage.

"Yeah, ever try to get him up before ten on a Sunday? I've only seen him mad a couple a times, and that was one of the worst," Ryuji shot back, following her casual pace. If Ann's health kick had lasted more than a week, he would have suggested that they run, but sometimes training had to be put on hold. Besides, Ann was the closest thing to a healer between the two of them, and if she got tired, they were both screwed as soon as this place turned on them.

* * *

Futaba could tell from a glance that Makoto hadn't slept well. The breakfast was absolutely delicious; the Prez really knew how to work with eggs, and even though it wasn't curry, Futaba decided that she would accept this alternative maybe two or three times a week if she had to. But other than the quality of her eggs, Makoto seemed to be running on fumes. She was much less responsive to any of Futaba's social advances, a clear flag that something was wrong, especially since the third-year was usually the most accommodating of her antics.

Futaba's powers of anxiety-ridden deduction took over. One, last night happened. Two, because of last night, Makoto had been lost in her own stress and worry and could not get a wink of sleep.

' _Because she thought you might try to off yourself again.'_

"I never actually…" Futaba mumbled, then slammed her mouth shut. Luckily, Makoto had situated herself in a lone black chair of modern design across the living space from Futaba, leaving the girl to murmur to herself while nose-deep in a handheld game. Hopefully she just thought of it as the rage-filled slandering gamers were known for. Futaba wouldn't lie and say she wasn't prone to it, herself, but she knew she liked to think that she had the self-control required to be somewhat respectable when other people were involved.

Unless that person was Akira. He was a cheating son-of-a-bitch and she was comfortable enough around him to call him out for abusing the hell out of glitches.

But that didn't matter now. If he found out she had a Palace again… he'd probably just let her win all the time so he didn't hurt her feelings or something. They'd start treating her like Sojiro did, back then… The world would be cushioned like she was some fragile glass doll.

' _Why wouldn't they? I haven't done anything to prove otherwise.'_

Over her screen, Futaba could watch Makoto in a vain attempt to piece together what was happening. She _just_ seemed tired. The Queen was exhausted, obviously; she had dark circles under her eyes, and hadn't even bothered applying the ever-present light layer of makeup (which made sense, since it was just her and Futaba and she probably wasn't going out). Makoto's book, something about linear algebra, had been on the same page for twenty-odd minutes. Her head bobbed up and down every once in awhile as drowsiness clawed at her. Guilt clawed at Futaba; she didn't want to cause any of this. Obviously, it was an accident, but if everyone had just stopped worrying about her yesterday she could have just retreated to her room and ignored it.

' _Or you woulda just drowned in your own thoughts, as usual…"_

The younger girl shook her head. She needed to stay on track. Why couldn't she focus?

' _Because you can't stop feeling sorry for yourself.'_

She shook her head again, harder this time. This was apparently enough to drag Makoto back to wakefulness, and the Niijima's eyes shot fully open. "Futaba? What's up? Sorry, I think I dozed off for a little bit there. I also apologize for studying when you're still here. Final exams are closing in and I like to spread out my workload."

"O-oh, what's up?" she repeated (lamely). "The ceiling! Ahaha… ha…"

' _Oh my fuck, those words just came into existence. Who the hell still fucking says that?'_

Makoto quirked an eyebrow, genuinely bemused, then went back to her book. Her smile was free, untouched by stress, and Futaba racked her brain to try to figure out why _not._ Makoto's exhaustion made sense, but not the lack of anxiety. Did she just get it all out last night? That kind of confidence would usually make her think that her Palace was being infiltrated, but every phone was accounted for, sans Makoto's, but that didn't matter since she was sitting barely a meter away from Futaba. Makoto had a habit of turning her phone off when studying, anyways, so it wasn't exactly abnormal.

Sae Niijima stepped into the main room, all dressed up in her black suit, briefcase in hand and ready to face the world. She gave the two girls a stiff nod and began collecting papers and chargers and other miscellaneous prosecutor-things from the dining table. For some reason, when both Niijima's were in the same room, Futaba couldn't help but mentally refer to Sae as 'Queen.' Even more than her younger sister, she exuded power and grace. And, from her Palace, Futaba knew the prosecutor had the cutthroat personality needed for the political minefield.

Did prosecutors count as politicians? Futaba wasn't that interested in the field, and didn't even really look into until the debacle with Shido. The judiciary side of things did technically work within the realm of 'government,' but was that 'politics?' Was there a difference? Did she care?

Futaba decided that she could just look it up later. Sae didn't seem to be the victory-obsessed harpy she had been previously, and even though Futaba still held some negativity towards her, she was instrumental in breaking Akira out of jail. Not as instrumental as Futaba herself, but still important. Either way, Akira seemed to trust her, so that was what mattered.

' _Gettin' cozy with the in-laws? Smart plan, Kurusu.'_

Sae passed by Futaba to grab her coat, unaware of the green monster consuming the girl close enough to touch.

' _FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK STOP STOP STOP STOP THESE ARE TEAMMATES YOU CAN'T-'_

"I don't believe that I will be home tonight. The bastard who took over SIU is placing me on more cases than any normal person could handle, but I'm gonna show him that I'm not the kind of woman he wants to mess with."

"So… see you in three days?"

The sisters exchanged sad, small smiles. "Probably. I'll try to come home for dinner, at least."

"I'll save you a plate. Be well, Sis."

"Look in a mirror and tell yourself that. Go take a nap while you still can."

Makoto chuckled lightly. "Alright, fine."

"See you later, Makoto." With that, Sae shut the door, leaving the two alone again.

Futaba managed to pull herself out of her fit of jealousy long enough to note that Makoto's home life really lent itself well to the RPG genre. She had no parents and her primary caretaker was practically never home; all she needed now was some grand quest to complete or encyclopedia to fill out and she would be the female protagonist of female protagonists. Why fight over Best Girl when you could just play as her?

Futaba let her lips crack upwards at the thought. For someone she was supposed to be jealous of, Makoto was a hard person to dislike. It wasn't even like she _wanted_ to dislike her, but the second she imagined her with Akira, Futaba's stomach starting tying itself in knots. But at the same time, she couldn't blame Akira for choosing her. She was practically perfect.

Said 'perfect' girl stood up, leaned close to the dormant television screen, and scanned her face. "Sis is right. I really do not look like I got enough sleep last night."

"Was that- I mean, did I…" Futaba trailed off, pointing at herself to finish the question.

But she got no accusatory glances, no eyes affirming her suspicions, and, weirdest of all, no _worry._ Just… warmth. "Futaba-chan, no! Of course not! I just have not slept well at all this week, so it's all catching up to me at once. Please, do not worry yourself over me."

' _Right back at you.'_

"A-alright. If you say so."

Makoto nodded. "I do. You're alright to take the Subway back to Yongen, right? I must apologize, I won't be able to accompany you. I don't want to fall asleep on my feet!"

She was getting kicked out. "O-oh, yeah, lemme grab my stuff-"

"Oh, no! You don't have to leave right this very moment!" she amended. "I'm going to go back to bed for a little bit, though, so I didn't know if you would feel comfortable on your own."

Futaba raised an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean!"

She did. "I just love teasing you, Mako-chan. You're cute when you're only functioning at half capacity."

Makoto blushed. "Thank you…? I'm sorry, I just need sleep."

"You've been saying that for the past ten minutes, just go get some already! I'll see myself out!"

"Bu-"

"Shh!"

Makoto froze up for a moment, unable to process the fact that she had just been 'shh'd.' "Wai-"

"No talking. Go sleep." Futaba returned to her game, discussion over. Well, it wasn't really a game, per say, she just had a video playing, but she returned to pretending that she was engrossed in a game so Makoto would go get some freaking rest already.

"Fine. I'd say text me when you get home, but I forgot to plug my phone in last night, so it's out of power. Sorry!"

With that, Makoto took her leave. Futaba watched her go, admiring the Queen's grace, but at the same time having an old suspicion relit. As soon as the younger Niijima's door closed, Futaba whipped out her own phone and brought up her tracking app. Sure enough, Makoto's phone still wasn't on it, but that didn't mean Futaba couldn't check her theory. She started making a habit of not perusing through the team's texts after she joined, but she decided this was an exception. Makoto's general demeanor was _off,_ far more than what could be explained by tiredness. As Futaba replayed the morning in her mind, over and over again, all of it seemed forced. Makoto was _trying_ to play up her exhaustion. It had to be a distraction. In the back of her head, she knew that, no matter what she had made the Queen promise, there was no way she wouldn't try to protect Futaba. Even if Futaba didn't _want_ her protection.

Futaba cracked open her laptop and connected her phone to it, then used it to trace Makoto's cellular trail. Numbers popped up, phone numbers filled the screen, and after syncing them with her contacts in order to identify each of them, the hacker spotted the first glaring issues: The last person Makoto Niijima texted was Ryuji Sakamoto. The transcript…

" _I see. Could you tell if there was anything bothering her?"_

" _I mean, there was definitely SOMETHING up. But she's just weird like that sometimes, ya know? She did mention something about- Nah, never mind, it's not important."_

Futaba's brow furrowed. ' _Weird like that?'_ But she couldn't let that bother her,

" _What is it?"_

They went back and forth a couple times, and Futaba would be lying is she said she hadn't smirked at Ryuji invoked the 'Fourth,' even though she knew she probably would probably do the same thing. Or she would look it up before saying something stupid. She skimmed past this section quickly, looking for the important parts.

" _Fine, damn it! She asked me if you and Akira were, like, thinging, okay?"_

"Ryuji, you weak-willed snitching bastard…" she grumbled. Makoto's response confirmed… nothing? Nothing past that point suggested whether or not she liked Akira, too. It was just her normal investigator dialect, the 'I-got-the-information-I-needed' attitude that she shared with her sister. But, Futaba thought, it also didn't deny anything. Maybe she and Akira were dating in secret, and had to keep the team in the dark? She could go through Makoto and Akira's texts…

' _No. That's going to far. You shouldn't do that.'_

Futaba managed to keep her curiosity at bay and returned to the task at hand. She didn't say anything about the Palace, not in her texts…

Wait. Right after this exchange, Makoto turned her phone off. It didn't shut down due to battery, she went through the steps to shut it down herself. Something kept nagging at Futaba… That didn't add up. When she tracked their phones as Alibaba, she learned everyone's habits inside and out. Makoto didn't turn her phone off to sleep. She kept it on, because she used its alarm to wake up in the morning. There was a chance, and it was a slim one, that Makoto shut her phone down to keep Futaba from being able to track her movements. Specifically _movement,_ since she couldn't send texts with her phone off. Duh.

' _I'm just being anxious, right?'_ Futaba asked herself as she pulled up the camera mainframe for the apartment building. The Niijima's lived in a rather well-off home, which meant that, naturally, they would have good security, and good security meant even more freedom for Futaba.

' _I shouldn't be hacking my friends,'_ a voice of reason called out, but even as she fought with herself Futaba's fingers kept darting around to find the- there.

3:34 a.m., Makoto Niijima left her apartment.

"Fuck…"

It would take her awhile to trace her movements, but Futaba would be able to piece together exactly what happened. She stole a glance towards the hallway. The darkened passage stared back at her, accusing. Suddenly, guilt overwhelmed the teen. She couldn't do this here, not in Makoto's own home. They were friends, weren't they?

' _A friend wouldn't go behind your back. She would listen to you, and not try to baby you after you told her not to.'_

' _But aren't you doing the same thing?'_

' _If she went behind mine, isn't it just tip for tap? One-for-one?'_

' _But-'_

Futaba grit her teeth. She was not going to argue with herself over this. Makoto may just be doing this out of worry, but she had also said that she would not act for a week. Makoto told her that she would give her the chance to solve this herself. If she went back on that, didn't Futaba have the right to challenge her? If they insisted on treating her like a kid, someone who couldn't fix their own problems, if they had the audacity to patronize her like this, she would give them hell.

She needed her full rig. She slammed her laptop shut and began packing up. The redhead did not know who else knew, but for now she would have to assume all Phantom Thieves were in on it. If that were the case… she had a plan.

* * *

The pink structure was much grander than either Ann or Ryuji initially estimated. From far-off, it just seemed to be a cube of some kind, but as they got closer the details began to emerge. It still came off as homely, but homely in the way that it looked as if multiple rosey mansions had been smashed into each other into one large residence. As Ryuji scanned it for an infiltration route, something about the architecture caused his memories of goofing off in class to surface. Something about Victorious style? He didn't really care; there was a reason he didn't pay attention in class. The design of the 'day-care,' as a sign by the door so helpfully identified, held no real interest to him anyways.

"Huh. The front door's open."

Ann stopped analyzing the Palace and followed his eyes. "Is that… someone in the doorway?"

A familiar figure stepped out of the shadows. "Hello Ann, Ryuji. How was the journey over? I do hope the scenery allowed you to relax, even if just slightly. I understand that this is a Palace, but I work hard on keeping up the grounds."

Ryuji couldn't believe his eyes. "... Haru?"

A yellow-eyed Haru, in her musketeer-style Thief outfit, curtsied in greeting. "Yes, at your service."

Ann gave herself a once over. "We're still in our clothes from the real world. Are we really not a threat?"

The cognitive clone of Haru gave a disturbingly replicated smile. "Oh no, of course not. You are Futaba-chan's friends. We would do nothing to harm you."

"That's… good," Ann responded, still doubtful.

Ryuji, however, was less tactful. "We're here to change her heart, so we're probably going to have to fight you at some point."

Haru's smile did not change. "We will lay down our lives to protect Futaba-chan. She was entrusted into our care, after all. It is our duty to keep her safe. But, as of right now, there is no way you could threaten her." Shadow Haru turned and walked back into the day-care. "Please, come in and have some tea. We have a lovely reception prepared."

"... Reception?" Ann muttered. This was too simple.

"... Tea? Why is it always tea or coffee? No one can just take a simple soft drink anymore…" Ryuji complained, but he still followed.

The reception room did not betray expectations. The wall on the side with the door and the wall to the left were lined with chairs much too small for either of the teens, obviously meant for toddlers. There was a small table in the middle of the room, split into two distinct parts. One had some old, well-read magazines, and the other had a small race track built into it, with toy cars to boot. The wall opposite of them had a window built into it. Shadow Haru grabbed a clipboard off of the ledge and turned to hand it to the two of them.

"For safety purposes, I'll have to ask you two to sign in."

Ann grabbed the sign-in sheet and pen, glancing at it cautiously. It was empty, so she picked the top slot and signed it. She passed it to Ryuji, who did the same thing. The peace put both of them on edge, but the fake Haru showed no sign of noticing anything.

"Thank you very much!" she said, taking it back from them.

"Now what? Do we getta see Futaba? You gonna tell us where the Treasure is?"

Haru's gentle demeanor didn't falter for a moment, even under Ryuji's crass interrogation. "Unfortunately, you only have level two clearance, which will not allow you to enter precious Futaba's chamber. I do hope you'll forgive me."

"How do we get a higher level of clearance, then?" Ann asked, hand going to her hip.

"I do not know, I apologize," Haru responded, curtseying again. "I only have level one clearance myself, you see. That's why I am posted as the groundskeeper and receptionist."

Ryuji felt his eyebrow twitch. He wanted to just bust his way through, but he could barely feel his connection to Captain Kidd. Something in the back of his head told him that, even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to summon his Persona. There was something wrong with this place, and whatever it was took away his first choice for solving problems in Palaces. The Shadow Haru rubbed him the wrong way, too. They were way too similar to the real one. This entire cognitive world just drove his anxiety through the roof.

Ann, however, seemed to keep something resembling a cool head. "How is clearance level determined, Haru-chan?"

Ryuji almost winced at that. It felt _wrong_ to call the fake Haru 'Haru-chan.' The Shadow Haru blinked her bright yellow eyes, but didn't seem to think anything was amiss, and for some reason that pissed Ryuji off even more.

"Clearance level is assigned based on Futaba-chan's bond with you. I guard the outer area in hopes that, one day, she will trust me enough to allow me to act as one of her inner guard."

Ryuji's jaw almost dropped; the Shadow seemed genuinely depressed. Futaba had created a version of one of her teammates that would sacrifice itself for her well-being… She wasn't wrong, anyone on the team had her back till the end, but this… was Futaba really self-centered enough to think that they thought of nothing but protecting her? He knew they were here to change her distortion, but seeing this just pissed him off.

"This is wrong…" he muttered. Ann responded with a microscopic nod, but Shadow Haru ignored their interaction.

"Please, allow me to take you further inside. I'll leave you with the level two caretakers." Haru opened a door by the reception window and ushered them inside. Silently, the group of three made their way through the cozy hallway. Fancy, small chandeliers lit the maroon walls, and Ryuji gave the detailed tan carpet beneath him a couple of curious looks. For a day-care, it was surprisingly posh. The fluffy-haired shadow led then down the hall to an oaken door on the left. She opened it, and gave them a low, sweeping bow after they entered.

"Regrettably, I cannot follow you past this point." Haru replaced her hat and smiled. "It was a pleasure talking to you, however brief our interaction was. I pray that you find the same positivity with the two caretakers of this area."

Ann faked a smile back. "Thank you, Haru-chan." As the door shut, the practiced grin disappeared, and her face wrinkled with stress. "Does Futaba really see us like this? As… sacrificial protectors? I don't… I don't know what to think…"

"Makoto didn't tell me much, but I'm guessin' there's more to it. There has to be, right?"

With that, the two of them turned to the great room they had just entered. Toys stacked against the walls in high piles, stuffed animals littered the floor, and structures made of blocks stood tall or had already fallen into disarray. It was a child's playroom, but on a huge scale.

"Fuck, man. Even rich kids don't get this kinda shit…"

Ryuji was right. The toys went on and on. Ryuji guessed that running around the perimeter would be about the same as a 400-meter track, and every square meter of the floor had some kind of doll or block on it. They would have to somehow make their way through this tumultuous terrain in order to make any progress in heart-stealing, so the runner steeled himself and began awkwardly stepping through the disaster area. Ann, after a whining sigh, followed in his steps.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, wincing as a she lost her balance on a block and pulled her ankle. She soon shook it off and was moving again, close behind Ryuji. A few arduous minutes later, both blondes were breathing heavily, but were closing in on the wall opposite of their entrance. A door much like the one the came in stood in front of them, but before he could attempt to open the door Ann called out to him.

"Yo, there's another door in the corner over there. Wanna check that out first? It seems a little outta the way, so there could be a treasure chest or something!"

Ryuji nodded and followed her. Luckily, the floor in that corner of the room was more heavily covered in soft and fluffy toys, rather than the edgy and pointy blocks and action figures near the entrance. The only thing keeping him from throwing some of the more annoying figures against the wall was the fear of triggering the threat response when they were already pretty far inside the building. The lack of shadows other than Haru did nothing to help that fear.

He did manage to get a good laugh out when Ann slipped on a teddy bear and landed flat on her ass, but that did nothing to make the closet door seem any less intimidating. He and Ann stood side by side, the brass knob taunting them.

"You were the one who wanted to check it out, go ahead and open it."

"But what if it's a trap? Like, they knew we would see a door off the beaten path and immediately think treasure, so instead they put some monstrous penis-shadow behind it."

Ryuji quirked and eyebrow. "That dickhead in Kamoshida's castle really did a number on you, didn't it?"

"It only attacked me!" Ann shouted, indignant. Suddenly, there was shuffling behind the door.

Both teens stared, waiting for movement, but nothing changed. Slowly, Ryuji reached forward. He grasped the knob, turned it, and, after sharing a nod with Ann, ripped the door open.

There are things people expect in life. Ryuji, admittedly, would have been much more comfortable if some Shadow much stronger than him and Ann emerged from the darkness. Instead, he came face-to-face with Shadow copies of himself and Ann in the middle of an _intense_ makeout session. The two pairs of Thieves stared at each other, frozen.

Ann was the first to speak. She took one look at the two half-naked Shadows and her face flushed a shade of red that would match her Phantom Thief costume, and, in a moment of pure emotion, just asked, "What the _fuck?"_

Ryuji shook himself out of his stupor. On one hand, he had to give Futaba props; she _definitely_ managed to do Ann's perfect body justice, and even gave his own Shadow some good toned muscles. On the other, Ann had the right idea. "I'd take the penis-shadow over this any day. This is surreal."

Shadow Ryuji pulled his lips away from Shadow Ann's. "Sup. Listen, we're gonna put our clothes on. Be right with ya."

With that, Shadow Ann reached out and pulled the door shut. The real Thieves just kept staring, awestruck. From behind the closet door, they could here the two shadows moving, presumably putting on their clothes. Neither Ann nor Ryuji could look the other in the eye, and opted instead to fix their eyes on opposite walls. Ann broke the silence before it could fester even more.

"So…"

"Yep."

"I'm guessing that means Futaba-chan thinks…"

"Probably…"

"Should we, like, talk about-"

Suddenly, Futaba's voice reverberated throughout the Palace. "3:34 a.m…"

Just that time. No other words, no context. "What the hell does that-"

In a burst of red and black flames, both Thieves took on their Phantom Thief guise. They were a threat now.

Ann's eyes widened in fear behind her Panther mask. "Something must have happened in the real world…"

Ryuji twirled his crowbar. "Well, at least now we know where we stand."

A low rumbling shook the closet door. Whatever monstrous forms their cognitive forms took, both blondes could feel the power seep through the atmosphere.

Ryuji flashed a crooked smile. _This_ was the kinda stuff he expected from Palaces. "Let's fuck these imposters up, yeah?"

Ann mirrored his grin and cracked her whip. "Oh, absolutely."

* * *

 **A/N:** HERE WE GO. Now we can get to the actual PALACE. I did meet the deadline I set for myself, but this chapter was weird to write. It just didn't wanna flow, you know? But I put on some opera music, realized I didn't really like the opera and that, even if I did like it, I can't write while listening to music, so then I turned the music off and just WROTE.

But yeah. I tried another different viewpoint for this chapter. In my own self-critique, I don't think I did that well at writing _as_ Ryuji/Ann, so I will work more on that to make it smoother in the future. Hopefully that's just me, though. They're not supposed to be as in-their-head as Futaba, but I may have overshot that a bit.

ANYWAYS. I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will be out 3/19 or before. After that, I'll hit a really busy spot and may not be able to get something out until after 4/1, but I will try my best to make it so the business does not affect my update schedule. Just giving ample warning.

Thanks for the support, as always. Your reviews, follows, and favorites have been really helpful.

Speaking of reviews... what're your thoughts?

ND


	4. Chapter 4

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck NOPE!"

Ryuji crashed through the door to the main hallway, bursting through the solid cloud of black smoke. Fire chased at his heels, and heated up his flame-resistant attire to a point where he was starting to feel like a ham in the oven. He hated to admit it, but he and Ann were not prepared for this. It was just supposed to be scouting, anyways, but… Joker would have noticed that they were in a room stuffed to the brim with highly flammable toys. Ann was always careful to keep them under control, but apparently fake Ann didn't have to worry about that, and ended up scorching the entire grand toy room the second the door opened.

He fell to the ground but managed to claw himself out of the doorway before collapsing completely. Carmen may help Ann operate in a burning and smokey room, but Ryuji wasn't that lucky. His first semi-fresh breath caught against the soot buildup in his throat, and he caved in on himself in a coughing fit.

"We must protect Futaba from those who wish to harm her. I apologize, but I'm going to have to kill you now."

Skull forced his eyes open through the cough-and-smoke-induced tears. Apparently, Futaba _really_ knew what Haru's sadistic, Shadow-killing smile looked like, because the sight of it sent pangs of terror far beyond what the Queen could cause down his spine. That may have had something to do with the giant axe the slight girl held above her head executioner-style, but Ryuji wasn't in a position to be introspective.

He stumbled jerkily, cursing his uncontrollable coughing fit, but managed to roll to the side just in time to avoid disembowelment and spit out a grey lob of ashy mucus. In the brief moment she took to pull her ax out of the wall, he managed to fill his lungs and prepare himself for some close quarters combat. He would need to get some distance before he could summon Kidd, but he didn't want to risk that when she had both the ax and a gun strapped to her waste.

Haru's movements stuttered slightly when her weapon came free, and Ryuji jumped on the opportunity to dive forward sweep her legs out from under her. The weight of the metal blade above her head took her down even harder, right into his rising punch. The more damage he could do now, before she transformed fully into a Shadow, the better. The impact of the strike, along with her instinct to protect her head, forced the fake Haru to let go of he oversized blade. The weapon clattered to the ground, but only stayed there for a fraction of a second before Ryuji grabbed it.

Ryuji was, secretly, glad to be alone for this fight. He knew that some of the other Thieves would be put off by the idea of murdering each others cognitive copies, even if that didn't mean anything about the real life versions. The image of it would put them off, ya know? But these were fakes standing in the way of Futaba's happiness, so he would take the real Thief any day. He lifted the ornate ax and quickly brought his foot down on the Shadow's back even as she tried to pull herself up, slamming her back onto the floor. Ann needed his help, she couldn't hold out against two opponents for long, so he couldn't take any more time than necessary. If he could do it before she had the chance to materialize her Persona-

Wait.

This wasn't right. The other Ryuji and Ann were transformed immediately. Why was Haru-

Haru twisted unnaturally, snaking her body out from under him and using the momentum to land two quick kicks to his right side. He staggered, but instinctively summoned Kidd to block any follow up attack. The fake Haru fluidly slid back onto her feet, reached to the hem of her skirt, and lifted it up… revealing an arsenal of rifles, shotguns, machine guns, and a single damned _cannon_ all aimed in his direction.

"I do hope you enjoy dancing, Ryuji."

One, Ryuji loved dancing and even held the third place record for the dancing machine in the arcade. Two, he briefly wondered if the laws of physics he never paid any attention meant anything to the cognition, because there was _no way_ that many weapons actually existed under her skirt this entire time. She was definitely the size of a regular human before she revealed her secret weapon. Err, weapons.

Third, Ryuji and the Captain both realized pretty quickly that neither of them could really stand up to the wave of focused fire coming towards them, nor was there any cover in close proximity, so they had to react fast. A fraction of a second before the bullets ripped through them, Kidd grabbed Ryuji and pitched him down the hall and into the hard, painful embrace of the metal reception lobby chairs. Kidd dematerialized the second Sakamoto left his hand, and Ryuji, jarred and aching as he was, used the head start to dive out of Haru's line of sight.. The storm of bullets whistled by him, tearing through the building's front wall and exposing the natural beauty of the outdoors.

Oh, how Ryuji wished he would ever be able to think of rolling green hills as peaceful again. He already had banks and museums and castles ruined for him, why not nature in general, too?

A cannonball blew apart the wall directly over his head. Ryuji gasped at the sudden intrusion of his own mortality, and almost didn't get out of the way as other bullets finished eating through his cover. As he retreated further into the lobby's corner, he summoned the Captain again, posting him right by the opening to the hallway. The captain readied his arm-cannon, waiting for the second fake Haru crossed the barrier.

They waited with baited breath. Other than the muffled sound of flames from the toy room, Ryuji could only hear his quicked pulse ringing in his head.

' _C'mon, listen. Anything. Listen, listen….'_

There. The sound of footsteps, quickly- wait, quickly?

"Shi-!"

Haru dove into the reception room, aiming a sniper rifle mid-flight. Before either Thief could react, she placed a shot through Captain Kidd's skull and rolled into a landing. The pain ripped through Ryuji, but he couldn't be phased; even before Kidd faded completely, Shadow Haru was setting up her next shot, and that wasn't a shot he wanted her to hit. He dropped his crowbar in the initial skirmish with Ann and his copies, and he just realized that he wasn't holding the ax anymore, but luckily the rubble from her onslaught gave him a lot to work with. He grabbed the broken metal leg of a chair and hurled it at her, forcing her to move or get pierced by the sharp metal. When she moved, he moved, dashing in to close the gap. She dropped the rifle, useless in close range, and pulled two SMGs from under her skirt.

' _Shit,'_ he cursed, knowing that any other person would be beyond dead right now, but his fight experience kicked in. He ducked towards the center of the room, ripping up half of a table and tossing it as a distraction. If anything, it would force her to adjust her aim, so he wouldn't be ripped apart immediately. He needed the timing to be just right…

A blast of pink psychic energy disintegrated the table, but the miniscule delay in her pulling the triggers gave him the chance to draw his own gun. A shotgun blast tore through the frail Shadow, knocking it, gasping, to the ground. A second later, Ryuji could focus enough to rematerialize Kidd. The black-clad pirate drove his cutlass through her small frame and channeled a full Ziodyne through it, frying her. Much to his surprise, instead of getting back up like most Shadows as powerful or dangerous as her, the fake Haru disintegrated in a cloud of red and black. Apparently she didn't have any kind of bulk or resistance to her. So, Futaba perceived her as a glass cannon of sorts, then.

' _Heh. Glass cannon. She had a cannon. Punny.'_

"That was… easy."

He didn't allow himself to revel in the easy victory for much longer, jumping onto Kidd's ship and flying back to the toy room. Ann had been fighting two against one for longer than anybody would normally be able to hold out, against two boss-level opponents, and he would be damned if he let her die. He pulled his red bandana over his mouth and jumped into the smoke, looking for any signs of a fight throughout the massive room. All sounds were blocked out by the roar of flames, and all sights beyond just in front of him were obscured in the blazing smoke. It was only the strength that his Persona-wielding powers gave him that let him withstand the heat, but even that had its limits. The smoke and hot air still ate away at his lungs, even through the filter, so he knew the best he could hope for would be getting Ann out-

A shrill ringing pierced through the roar. Ryuji stumbled, his Phantom Thief attire stripped off and replaced with his normal clothes. The fire disappeared instantly; the toys were still burnt, but ash and fire were gone in a heartbeat. Just twenty feet to his left, Ann sat, shaking with exertion. Each breath she took rattled, and he could tell that she was moments away from passing out. She did just that, but not before shooting him a relieved smile.

Shadow Ann still stood, but his own fake was nowhere to be seen. Ann must've managed to take him out… either that, or his Shadow form couldn't take the firestorm this room became. He would have to ask Ann about it later; through all of the flames, he never actually got to _see_ Futaba's cognition of him, and his curiosity of her perception of him was going to drive him mad the longer the answer sat just out of reach.

The conscious fake Ann, still clad in her red spandex, smiled at her counterpart. "Guess I'm getting strong, huh? My training's paid off!" She turned and shot him a wink. "I'm hoping to get to play with you a bit more next time, you can only get so much satisfaction playing with yourself."

' _True.'_

Ryuji wouldn't ever say that out loud, though. Not when Ann could wake up any second, and especially not to the Shadow that put her on the ropes. Instead, he just got really flustered. "T-t-this is for Futaba's sake! We're not-"

The large double doors that lead into the level three clearance area burst open, and Ryuji could swear he felt the temperature drop significantly. A yellow-eyed Makoto stalked into the room, obviously fuming. She, unlike the three other cognitions Ryuji had seen, wasn't wearing her Phantom Thief attire: instead, she wore a tight-fitting white polo and black pants that highlighted her form. It wasn't a serious change from her normal wardrobe, if you excluded the brass knuckles strapped on her belt, and the fact that her clothing seemed just a notch smaller than what she would normally wear. Ryuji took notice, not because he was perverted or anything, of course not, but because it was such a small difference he almost didn't notice it at first.

And once he did, he thought she was really freaking hot. Ann's Thief outfit was sexy, yeah, but it was almost too much so at times, and could lose its appeal after extended exposure, but this… this was classy. Of course, he would let an domi-

"Ann, a fire?! You started a fire! In a day-care! What if you hurt the baby?"

' _Wait… baby?'_

"Sorry, ma'am! There were intruders-" Shadow Makoto scared Shadow Ann. Ryuji took note of that; he wasn't a founding member of the Phantom Thieves for nothing. It took awhile, but he learned what information he needed and what information he didn't, and this definitely seemed like something he should know. If a powerful fire Shadow like Ann was downright terrified of the fake Makoto, that said something about one, who the stronger one was, and two, who they would inevitably have to fight to get to the Treasure.

Which, without Morgana or Futaba, they wouldn't know how to get to. The real Makoto needed to get the entire team in on this, stat.

"You!" The False Queen pointed at him, her glowing eyes drilling daggers into his. "We tried to get you to back off with physical force, but now, just _stop._ Futaba is safe with us. I understand that you are worried about her, the existence of a Palace would worry anybody, but trust me when I say that this is what's best for her. We know what we're doing, so don't come back. No personas, no weapons, no Phantom Thieves, no fighting. I know that your first instinct is to break anything that remotely looks like it stands in your way, but please be cognisant of the fact that Futaba doesn't want to be saved by you. She's fine here, being protected."

Ryuji shook off the fear Makoto in general struck into him, and leered back at her. "We're both standing in a fucking Palace, so that's bullshit." The blonde and the brunette stood face to face, tensions rising. "If ya really wanted what's best for her, you'd let us know where the Treasure is. If not, we'll just beat the crap outta you and take it ourselves."

"You would go so far as to steal from a child? Even as a Phantom Thief myself, I can't help but think that's rather low of you."

The animosity between the pair was palpable, but no matter what Ryuji stayed in his regular attire. If he could summon Kidd, this would be fine, but if this clone had any of Makoto's aikido training he'd be in deep trouble trying to take her on with just his fists. He needed to provoke her more… even if he couldn't beat her, it would be much easier to escape with his persona ready.

"It's nothing compared to just letting her wallow in her twisted desires and perceptions. I thought the all-knowing Queen would realize that before stupid ol' me."

Still nothing. Even if he tried a gut shot, the cognition could take on her Shadow form before Ryuji could get the chance to protect himself, let alone Ann.

After a heated silence, fake Makoto broke their staredown. "I will not fight you. It's Futaba's nap time, so I must be going. Before that, though, Ann and I will escort you two out. Pick her up." She motioned to the unconscious blonde girl, a motion Ryuji angrily followed. Ann wasn't exactly a feather, but his daily workouts meant he had no trouble slinging her over his shoulder. He knew when he was outmatched; they needed the entire team. Silently, he walked between the two Shadows, retracing their path from the entrance. Once he stood just outside on the grass, Shadow Makoto spoke.

"Leave. Now."

"Right, right, I'm on it," Ryuji practically spat and grabbed Makoto's phone out of his pocket. The fake Makoto nodded as he opened up the MetaNav, and he held her glare for as long as he could before the Palace faded out of view.

He was back in the alley, and he was pissed. But his number one priority was getting Ann somewhere safe, and that somewhere safe just happened to be right across the street. He walked through the door of Leblanc with a lightly-snoring Ann over his shoulder, and came face-to-face not only with the expected unsurprised Sojiro, but an equally unsurprised Futaba perched like a gargoyle on a barstool.

"Yo, Ryuji," she greeted him coldly, "How've you been?"

Ryuji's reply was shaky. He was told explicitly not to let Futaba know about this, and he _thought_ that he had done a pretty good job, but considering how he fucked up things with Makoto he couldn't really be that surprised about being caught. Covert operations were not his strong suit. "Sup, Futaba, and not so bad. You?"

"Oh, you know. Slept over at Makoto's last night, watched some really compelling CCTV footage, and then came down here to enjoy some curry and feelings of betrayal. The usual."

He nodded. "The usual."

She jumped off the stool, her small hands balled into white-knuckled fists and- wait, were those tears in her eyes? God, Ryuji wasn't good with crying girls, he didn't know what to say. Maybe he should just throw Makoto under the bus? No, Futaba probably already knew about that part. He'd just have to take it, then.

"Sojiro, thank you for the curry. Could you give us a few minutes?"

Sojiro nodded stoically, and as he stepped out from behind the bar and passed Ryuji, gave the boy a look that could only be translated as 'Whatever you did to her, I'll pay it back double.' "Maybe you should get Ann set up in the best upstairs." With that parting remark, Ryuji's second death went to wait in ambush somewhere outside the shop.

Maybe he would throw Makoto under the bus. He was just trying to help out a friend, and she was the one who decided on this stealth mission. However, one look at Futaba's face told him he wasn't getting out of this that easily.

' _Well, fuck.'_

* * *

Makoto did not, nor would she ever, fit in at Protein Lovers Gym. It didn't help that she didn't change into workout clothes, but… she was so slight compared to everyone here. They were mostly men, since the gym was mostly marketed towards men, but damn if sixty percent of them didn't look like professional bodybuilders. That, and she was still completely exhausted from practically pulling an all-nighter the night before. Faking sleep until Futaba left was no easy task, and it was only a lot of luck and some admittedly mediocre acting that the young girl left early enough for Makoto to get to the gym before Akira. Now she just needed him to-

"Makoto? Are you stalking me again? I thought we were past this."

He snuck up on her! "N-n-n-no, n-not at all!" She stammered, turning towards his voice- ' _OH GOD HE'S IN A TANK TOP LOOK AT THOSE ARMS THEY'RE SO TONED HOLD ME'_

Makoto's brain ground to a halt under the intense visual overload (the black tank top was unexpected and TIGHT), but luckily Akira was accustomed to her clipped responses. That, or her face was red. ' _Please don't let me face be red I'm begging-'_

"Well, you're obviously not here to workout," he said, flashing her a teasing grin. He flipped out his phone and scrolled through it quickly, then nodded. "And I was definitely talking to Ryuji when I made plans to come here. Yet, he's not here, and you are. Seems suspicious."

There was no use defending against that, because he was completely justified in his suspicions. "Well, I am here to talk to you, and due to some restraints I needed Ryuji to help set it up… covertly."

"Covertly, you say? Oh, lemme guess. Sae doesn't approve of me?" He quirked an eyebrow, leaving her to answer the joking question that was probably better off being rhetorical. Because, no, Sae didn't approve of him and would definitely not be happy if they got together or anythi-

' _Wait, no, no romantic thoughts. I can't do that to Futaba, not right now.'_

The guilt managed to clear her head, even if his exposed arms and highlighted muscular chest were extremely, extremely distracting. She had a mission, so mission-mode Makoto took the frontline. "There's… something going on with Futaba."

Akira's gaze hardened; no, not hardened, it turned downright terrifying. There was worry in it, but also… anger. Hatred. Was she missing something..? He briefly swept over the people in the gym, as if suddenly their presence put him on edge. "Let's go somewhere else."

* * *

A quick ride on the subway later, Makoto and Akira solemnly looked over the lake of Inokashira Park. The sunlit trees were budding out of winter's hold, and the fresh vibrant green dazzled the younger Niijima sister. She didn't usually get to come to natural places like this, so to see it in all of its beauty was a fresh sight. The water sat, cold but not iced over. Akira, however, didn't take the time to notice.

"Was it her- No, never mind. What's going on?"

Makoto grimaced. She was already breaking her promise, and now she had to break the one Futaba _begged_ her not to. But, Akira was their leader. He _had_ to know, otherwise they couldn't do anything to help her get rid of those distorted desires.

' _She doesn't want help. Why not just let her go through it until she realizes she needs us?'_

Makoto let out a breath. Because distorted perceptions aren't that easy. "She-" the words caught in her throat. Why did she call this meeting? Why did she have to backstab Futaba again? It was too late to back out, but the guilt… "Her cognition, it- she's formed a new Palace."

Akira's eyes shot open wide, a mix of shock and fear and panic. He went silent, processing, analyzing this new information. "That's- t-that's not how it's supposed to work. Morgana said-"

"I know." Makoto shook her head. No matter what angle she looked at it from, there shouldn't have been a way for Futaba to develop a second Palace, especially after awakening her own persona. "But it's on the MetaNav. I've seen it."

Akira's mouth opened, and paused. She could see his wheels turning; in many situations, he was just as smart as her. He was running through all possible ways it could have done wrong, all possible situations that would make Futaba the outlier, everything that could have distorted her perceptions again. "The Palace. What are the keywords?"

"The location is the hideout, and the distortion is day-care."

Something clicked. A cold breeze blew through the bare trees surrounding them. "Have you been there?"

Makoto shook her head. "No, but Ryuji and Ann are scouting it now-"

Akira's eyes narrowed, and Makoto could tell that she messed up. She knew she would be berated for going behind his back, so she grit her teeth and looked away before he started chewing her out.

"You sent two people into a Palace alone? Not just any Palace, but an abnormality like this? What if they-" Akira caught himself; both he and Makoto knew that, especially in the planning and information gathering phases, he could get emotional. That's why she handled that, and he handled leading the actual infiltrations.

She would ask for him to trust her judgement more in any other situation, but in this case, she deserved it. She could tell Futaba didn't trust her, so she played into that. Ryuji and Ann were bait for Futaba; as long as they didn't engage in any battles, they would be fine. She couldn't text, or call, or message, not when the hacker was her mental opponent. So… she needed to open up a period of time where she could meet Akira, face to face. To do that, she purposefully put two of their teammates at risk. His anger made sense.

Akira massaged his brow and let out a deep sigh. "Why couldn't you have just waited to tell me at school tomorrow?"

"Futaba is also aware of her Palace, and has been insistent of the fact that I give her the chance to handle it herself. You're… not supposed to know."

"That explains the secrecy. But why send Panther and Skull in?"

Makoto bit her lip. "To be honest, that was… a gamble." She froze for a moment when Akira's gaze sharpened, but he motioned for her to continue. "I didn't know for sure if Futaba would track me, but I felt like, with her disregard for digital privacy and how she acted during our first run through her Palace, that it would be highly likely. So, I needed to devise a plan that would draw her attention away from me personally."

Akira nodded, and levelled his head just right so that his glasses hid his eyes. "Hence Ryuji and Ann."

Makoto mirrored his nod. "Right. I needed her to believe that they were the more immediate threat, while I came to talk to you."

Something piqued Akira's interest, and a lone eyebrow popped up from behind his frames. "Why would they be a threat?"

"Again, she was adamant about handling it herself. I didn't know how she would respond to someone entering. If she didn't leave my apartment when she figured it out, I would have just found a way to tell you at school, because then I would she wouldn't actively resist us stealing her Treasure."

"But you're here, which means…"

Makoto's red eyes flickered with sadness, echoing the frosty beauty of the lake under the burning sun. "Yeah. She stormed out pretty quickly after I pretended to go to sleep. Ryuji and Ann are probably getting an earful right about now."

Akira ran a hand through his curly hair, stopping to play with it every once in awhile. As he settled to twist a curl of his bangs, he sighed and spoke. "So, she feels like the hideout is a day-care, and is actively resisting help to, what, prove herself? I'm not going to lie, this feels like a catch-22."

That hadn't crossed Makoto's mind. "How so?"

A runner passed by them, jogging at an extremely slow pace and with terrible form. The pair waited silently for the footfalls to pass. Once Akira was certain they would not be overheard, he continued. "The distortion is a day-care, which either means that she feels responsible for taking care of the entire team, or she feels like a child that the team is babying. Due to her being the youngest and her desire to 'do this on her own,' I'm going to assume it's the latter. You were right to come to me secretly; I feel like the more she knows that we're trying to help her, the larger and more powerful her Palace will become."

By the end of his analysis, Akira was shaking. Makoto, against her current professional demeanor, reached out a hand and placed it on his bare shoulder. "We'll do this. Should we call a meeting on the rooftop tomorrow? By word of mouth, of course. We can fill in Yusuke later."

Akira nodded, still shaking. "Yeah." He smiled at her, and she finally realized that his teeth were chattering. "Can we go somewhere else now? I forgot to bring a change of clothes, and my choice of venue for this little meeting was… a bit dumb."

"O-oh! I'm sorry I didn't realize sooner!"

He waved off her attempt to hand over his coat. "No, no, it's fine. Just get me on the train and we'll be fine. And… hey."

"Yeah?" She asked, begrudgingly slipping her coat back onto herself.

"Thanks for handling this. I'm glad you and Futaba get along."

Makoto felt herself blushing, but hoped the red tinge from the cold hid it well enough. "It's really not a big deal…"

"Don't be modest. But, for future reference, please don't send less than four members into a Palace, and especially without one of the two of us."

"Yeah…"

* * *

Akira stepped into one of Central Street's many darkened alleyways. The Joker made sure Makoto was on her way home, but he decided that he needed to make a quick pit stop, not only to make sure Ryuji and Ann were out of Leblanc by the time he got back, but to check up on a certain someone and confirm some things with them. He stepped over garbage and debris, along with the occasional rat, until a faint blue light told him that he reached his destination. Caroline watched him approach the entrance to the Velvet Room with a sadistic smile, and he quietly prepared himself for another kick in the back. He really wasn't in the mood, and could deflect it if need be, but he'd rather not exert that kind of effort at all right now. It didn't matter, though, he had a plan b.

"Back so soon, Inmate? You must really love being kicked around."

He smiled lightly at her, and hoped he could hide the sadness in his eyes. Just another on the long list of people he couldn't save. "What can I say? You pretending to be a dominatrix is a bit of a turn on."

That shut her up. Plan B successful. The red-faced loli magically unlocked the door and let him walk through on his own, but with the added jab of "You really deserve to be kept prisoner…"

"Well if I get to see your cute face every day, than it wouldn't be that bad."

That one was just for fun, and she was definitely going to try to gouge his eyes out for that at some point, but Akira really didn't care. Her buttons were so easy to press, and he had a long day of staying serious ahead of him. Might as well work out his teasing side now, when he had the chance. He let the blue envelop him, dragging him down to the hellish cerulean cell and face-to-face with the jailer he came to despise so much.

"Hey, 'Igor,' I was hoping we could have a little chat about one of my friends."

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm baaaaack. With a... short chapter that doesn't really make up for the amount of time I've been gone, but that I didn't really want to continue because those are conversations I need a full chapter for. However, I will disclose, that while my busy phase came on a week earlier than I expected, I was _going_ to say that I would miss two updates, so in fairness to myself this was the planned amount of update missing. Kind of. Sorry about that, though. We should be back on your regularly scheduled Alien from here on out, though.

So yeah, specific notes: Thank you for the reviews! I love reviews, they're wonderful, and help me figure out what I'm doing right or what I'm doing wrong. Second, sorry for not actually showing Shadow Ann and Ryuji! They will be shown, but I needed to save them. I understand people don't like this kinda thing sometimes, but know that I am aware of that and that the problem will be fixed eventually. Third, Futaba's Palace is still going to be the main focus, don't any of you worry.

And yeah, that's all! Have a great day, and I hope this brightened it a little!

ND


	5. Chapter 5

"Ryuji."

"Y-yeah?"

Futaba adjusted her glasses, hoping the motion would provoke some kind of outlet for her emotions that didn't involve crying. She couldn't cry, not with a Phantom Thief in front of her. Even if the only friends she had ever _really_ had were going behind her back and ignoring her complaints and, in her opinion, relatively well-presented requests to not fuck around in her head. The Thieves were strong, and she was one of them, so she had to be strong, as well. No matter whether or not they thought of her on the same level… She had to prove it. She wasn't just some supporting character.

The irony of that statement didn't go over her head, though.

"Why did you go into my Palace?" She wrangled her feelings down into herself, chaining them together in a small ball at the recesses of her consciousness. Formality, professionalism, maturity. That's what she had to convey. People respect that.

Ryuji turned red as they finally addressed the elephant in the room. Did he feel guilty for going against her wishes, or guilty that he was caught? How much did Makoto even tell him? If he knew everything, that was just another person to patronize her more. Another older sibling caring for the brat… Not the same guy who went to the arcade with her the other day. Not that Ryuji didn't treat her like a kid, he definitely did, just a bit less than Akira or Makoto or Ann.

' _You're the 'girl with a Palace' now. Just another target to be fixed… not that I'll make it easy on them.'_

The blonde stuttered, searching for defense. "M-Makoto told me 'n Ann about the Palace, then was like, 'Can you scout it out for me?' So, yeah. 'Course we did. Didn't want you hur-"

She didn't want to hear the rest. She knew what he would say, and she didn't need her theories confirmed. "Did she tell you what I asked her?"

His eyes sparked with guilt, but it seemed fresh, so she knew his answer before Ryuji even spoke. "I knew somethin' was up, yeah. But I thought we were just tryna avoid super high security, ya know? I didn't realize…"

"I've learned a lot about Makoto in the past twenty-four hours…" she muttered, hoping it was quiet enough that he couldn't pick out exactly what she said. Of course, his slight twitch gave away the fact that he did, but in a strange sense she was happy with that. Makoto was a snake, plain and simple. Ryuji had a right to know that his strategist would lie to his face, then go behind his back and do the exact thing she promised not to...

"I said I could handle it…"

Ryuji grimaced and looked down at the empty glass on the bar. It used to be a soda, and there was once a stale scone next to it, but apparently Ryuji ate when under pressure. Futaba couldn't use that against him; rather, she didn't want to. He may have gone behind her back, but he was just an instrument.

' _An instrument who should have known better. He make act dumb, but he's not that easy to play.'_

Said tool let out a nervous sigh. "I don't… sorry, but I don't think you can. Alone, anyways. Haru nearly killed me, and Ann… two Shadows did that to her."

Futaba bristled. She opened her mouth, ready to tell him all about how much she could actually do with her own self-conscious, ready to spew fire on par with a final boss, but something deep in her psyche froze over and chilled her down to the bone.

She had Shadows inside of her.

She wasn't aware of Shadows when she first had a Palace, not until they defeated that flying monstrosity that claimed to be her mother. Of course, she rationalized it afterwards, and reconciled everything she knew about her mother's research and the retroactive news that she had a whole cognitive world inside of her. The key concept was that she came to terms with this _after it happened._ Futaba felt a pit grow in her stomach, and had the sudden urge to throw up. Her hand raced to cover her mouth, but nothing came out; she gagged, but the panic wasn't leaving. She couldn't just expel it from her body, she couldn't just get rid of it, and she really wished she could. Futaba felt the stress hit her full-force as she finally realized that the Palace she saw on her MetaNav, that she had merely observed, was actually a real place, inside of her, harboring Shadows and distorted desires.

For some reason, that hadn't clicked earlier. It hadn't been real. She had walked into this cafe pissed, ready to either scream Ryuji and Ann into the ground or guilt trip them into leaving her alone. Either way, she planned on spreading seeds of resistance against Makoto, somehow making them realize that Futaba was a strong and capable fifteen year-old woman who could handle this on her own.

' _But I have a FUCKING PALACE inside of me.'_

What had she actually planned on doing to fix it, anyways? Realistically, she hadn't even really thought about entering her Palace in the first place. Most of her efforts had been concentrated on making sure the others _didn't_ enter it, so she never really thought about...

Suddenly her vision came back into focus, and Ryuji wasn't on his stool anymore. Futaba's eyes shot around, shakily locking on to the flash of blonde hair barely sticking over the oaken counter opposite her.

' _Why's he going through the cups?'_ She wondered, that mundane thought floating amid the torrent of panicked realization, screaming at her to run and hide and never leave her room again because she would be safe there and no one could bother her while she played video games and ignored the world-

"Futaba?!" Ryuji's voice cut through to her main consciousness, and a sharp clang of glass on wood signaled the arrival of a glass of ice water. That was a question answered, she supposed, but it didn't lighten the weight of the world at all. For awhile, she just stared at the clear cup, ignorant of Ryuji's follow-up attempts to gain her attention.

' _There are monsters inside of me, praying on my insecurities, and I'm the reason they're alive…"_

"Oi!"

A strong hand tapped her roughly on the head, finally pulling her out of her self-made abyss. She finally met Ryuji's eyes, grimacing lightly as she saw the worry that enveloped them.

"Welcome back, you effin' astronaut. I thought you were gonna lose your lunch there for a second, and I really don't wanna have to do laundry again this week." His smile punctuated the end of his sentence, a bright glow that was too warm for the girl to handle right now. Her nausea returned in a wave, reminding her vaguely of the time she got heat stroke after she went to the beach with the rest of the Thieves. Of course, she kept that a secret at the time because she wanted to seem cool, but her and the sun really didn't mix.

Without her even realizing it, her thoughts had shifted. Futaba had every right to worry about her Palace, and she would continue down that path later, when she was alone. But she wouldn't let her anxiety get the better of her here, in front of someone else. She wasn't the kid who broke down just from being outdoors anymore. She forced her wheezing breaths to slow, cursing her asthma-prone self for ratting out her panic attacks, and composed her outer appearance.

She wouldn't make anyone worry about her anymore.

She could deal with her problems on her own.

She didn't need help.

Ryuji's eyes were an insult. Ann's insistence on being her 'big sister' just spat on Futaba's desire to be an equal peer. Futaba cursed Makoto's patronizing sympathy. The Student Council President just wanted to believe that she had everything more together than everyone else, just because she was pretty and smart and mature and everything Futaba aspired to be like and could be like if she could keep her damn mouth shut sometime…

"I'm fine, Ryuji."

Ryuji quirked an eyebrow, unconvinced. "For real?" Futaba winced internally, recognizing the rhetorical question and choosing not to answer it. He was just giving her another chance to be honest, she knew, but sometimes denying the obvious led to a better outcome. "You paused for like half a minute just then."

"I was just… thinking. Please take Ann and go." Ryuji opened his mouth to protest, but the redhead cut him off with a wave. This wasn't the time. She was done talking. "I need some time alone."

Apparently, though, Ryuji wasn't going to maintain his silence for long. "I'll leave ya alone, but I'm gonna wait here until Ann wakes up, k?"

Futaba smirked, feeling a playful facade take over as her inner thoughts were occupied. "Oh, yeah, you two are living together, right? Waiting for her makes sense."

Ryuji's face went beet red, a fun mix with his shock of yellow hair, she thought. "H-how did you- W-wait, no, it's not like that! I can explain-"

But Futaba had already taken his flustered seconds to get up and leave the cafe, his qualifying stutters silenced by the ringing brass bell of her exit. With a frown, she realized that she left her water on the table, but didn't bother going back to get it for fear of being cornered again. She didn't need that conversation now; rather, she didn't need to _finish_ that conversation now. Ryuji knew that she didn't want her Palace messed with, so he would probably keep the others from going in, as well. For some reason, she trusted him to honor her wishes and remain in the real world for the time being, at least, so she could take some time to think. She couldn't talk anymore. Not where she was mentally; at some place during that exchange that she couldn't pinpoint, a switch flicked and any thoughts of interacting with people grated on her nerves.

The scenery of Yongen-Jaya's maze of alleys and street shops blurred by as she auto-pathed to the Sakura residence, her mind still fuzzy with anxiety. None of her thoughts _stuck,_ they just blurred in and out of existence before she could follow any of them to completion. Just as she began mentally complaining about not being able to focus, one thought stood out. Without looking around to make sure she didn't run into anyone, Futaba did a surprise about-face and ran (well, her equivalent of 'ran,' which looked more like a perpetual stumble) back to the cafe. Luckily, everything in Yongen-Jaya was so close together that she was barely gone for two minutes overall.

"Ryuji! Phone! Now!"

"FUCKING HELL FUTABA!" Ryuji outright screeched in shock, and had to flail his arms around to regain his balance. He was (suspiciously) halfway up the stairs to Akira's room, or, more importantly, Ann's temporary room. He took a couple deep breaths to collect himself after the scare, but Futaba was already in motion and wouldn't take any more delays. If she could skip this dialogue and just get the quest item and go back home, she would, but real life was just a collection of unskippable cutscenes and she was used to it by this point in her life. It didn't mean she was in the mood for it, especially after she already thought she would be able to relax and think and stare into the void as her mulled through her own anxiety, for better or worse.

"The phone," she demanded, palm open and ready to receive the package.

"I left my phone at ho-"

"Not your phone, dummy!" Did she really have to be that detailed? Why didn't people just know how to read context? She didn't want to be here. She came back out of pure necessity, so she would only say what _should_ be necessary. If only everyone wasn't so freaking stupid and actually tried to listen to her…

' _This is a bad headspace, Futaba. You need to isolate. Now.'_

"Makoto's phone!"

Ryuji paused, hesitant. His grip on the handrail that separated them tightened with what Futaba presumed to be nerves. Why couldn't he just not resist? She knew what she was doing…

"I don't think that's…"

"A good idea? It'll keep her from avoiding me, and this is definitely something she and I should talk about, don't you agree?"

' _I'm not going to talk to her now, but… soon-ish.'_

And that's how, ten exhausting minutes later, Futaba slammed the door to her room shut, threw Makoto's phone on her desk, and collapsed into her bed and promptly fell asleep. Something in the back of her mind tried to keep her awake, saying something about 'new episodes' or how she 'needed to practice for that speed-running competition,' but for the first time in a couple years, Futaba couldn't be bothered to even throw herself into the world of video games and anime.

* * *

"Alright, let's do this…"

Makoto mustered her courage, knocking gently on the door to the Sakura residence. Leblanc's windows were dark before the sky was, which confused her, but Sojiro seemed to be fickle enough that it didn't throw her off that much. She knew Akira wouldn't be there, since he got off a couple of stops early in order to pick up some groceries. She offered to go with him, but he waved her off and promised to call later that night.

' _He's going to CALL me!'_

No matter how much she tried to maintain professionalism, there would always be that little part of her… Makoto laughed at herself lightly, but she drew herself back into the heavy situation when the Boss opened the door.

"Ah- Makoto, right?"

Makoto nodded, vaguely noting that this was the first time she had seen Sojiro without an apron on. "Yes, Bos- sir, sorry."

He rolled his eyes, obviously not caught up in the semantics of it. He motioned for her to come in, and she stiffly followed his lead. She had never actually been to the Sakura residence after their infiltration of Futaba's Palace, and had definitely never gone down the hallway into the main living area. It always seemed like an off-limits area (plus, every time she passed the stairs to the second floor, she suffered flashbacks to a certain embarrassing situation that involved her yelping and grabbing on to a certain someone's arm and shoulders, which she wasn't complaining about objectively, she definitely lost the respect of others on that day). As she shook away the thoughts of muscular backs and shoulders and quads she took a chance to push herself against, they reached what seemed to be Sojiro's main living area.

Makoto gave herself a mental pat on the back; it was almost exactly what she predicted. She took pride in being able to guess what people's rooms would look like before she saw them, and Sojiro did nothing she did not expect. There was a TV, a cushioned leather chair, and a small table with a coffee cup and two cans of beer. The color scheme matched the coffee shop, but the minimalism betrayed just how much time he spent at Leblanc; there was no reason to decorate anything beyond what it needed to be.

' _Nor could he afford_ , _'_ Makoto deduced, ' _considering how little traffic goes through Leblanc.'_

Sojiro reached into a small closet in the hallway right before the main room and pulled out a folding chair, letting Makoto stand in awkward silence as he waved at her to go first. For the first time, she noticed that he seemed to have some trouble lifting what should have been a light piece. His hunch worsened dramatically, looking less like as a simply relaxed way of holding himself and more like actual evidence of his age. The barista also shuffled slightly, which Makoto had noticed before, but the scratching noise against the wooden floor pushed it to the forefront. As her attention shifted to his feet, she saw a speck of blue pressing against a hole in the front of his slippers. An insert?

Makoto noticed her staring a second after it became rude, and guiltily met Sojiro's annoyed gaze. He rolled his eyes again, seemingly brushing it off, and motioned for her to sit in the rickety metal chair. His gaze drifted towards the half-opened door to the kitchen area, but he seemed to dismiss the idea of offering food.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting company."

Something about the Boss put Makoto off her game; her 'Student Council' mode didn't work on him, but she knew that already. For some reason, she felt like nothing she said would help them have a pleasant conversation. She sighed in resignation. Sometimes, pleasantness just wasn't attainable. Scholarship interviews and living with her sister for the past two years had taught her that.

"So?"

"I left my phone with Futaba to, erm, fix something, and neede-"

Sojiro let out a slow, controlled breath. "Choose the people you lie to more carefully. I'm not as senile as you kids seem to want to believe."

' _Fuck.'_

"I-I'm sorry?" If there were a chance to save face, this would be it. If she could find out what Sojiro knew, she could adjust her story accordingly.

As his glare leveled on her, Makoto knew she didn't want to make any more attempts at lying. "Futaba texted me to make her a plate of curry after she left _your_ apartment this afternoon, which wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary, but she walked into the shop on the verge of tears!"

Sojiro's voice gradually gained volume, reverberating off of the thin, wooden walls. The punctuating shout echoed through Makoto, effectively throwing her stomach out of a plane and letting it drop and drop and drop. Suddenly, she felt sick. Makoto knew, below all of her self-justification and strategizing, she deserved this. She had planned on something like this happening, but as long as she saved Futaba… this was just a guilt she would have to accept. But even if she accounted for this fallout, this deconstruction of trust, her emotions hated it. She hated hurting people close to her. But, as her widened red eyes would betray, she wasn't prepared for the emotional impact of coming to terms with the hurt she caused.

"I-I didn-"

"Don't tell me what you didn't do, tell me what you did!"

Makoto's eyes drifted upwards, partly in the delayed realization that Futaba was just above them, and partly to avoid Sojiro's trembling form. She was the only one sitting, but given the power allocation of the situation, she decided the better route was to stay seated and submissive. She had no arguments, anyways... but she did have answers.

"Futaba has another Palace."

' _Congratulations, you've betrayed her again. What a great friend you are,_ President. _'_

Sojiro went silent, retracting his pointing hand and sliding it and its twin into his pants pockets. She let him process, taking the time to process her own feelings. Unfortunately, that didn't allow her much time.

"What does that have to do with the two blondies?"

No more lying. "I-" a catch, "I'm sorry, I-I sent them into her new Palace, to scout it out, and… to plan an infiltration."

"No Palace jargon. What were you planning on doing?"

Right. Sojiro was still really new to this, and didn't particularly approve of their operations. She needed to take that into account when she talked to him; she couldn't afford to slip up and destroy their tentative relationship by not explaining her plan clearly. "Her heart has become distorted again, so we were figuring out how we were going to change it back to normal."

A pause.

"I see."

Sojiro backed up and eased himself into his well-worn chair, wincing in pain as he guided himself lower. As he fully relaxed into the seat, he took a moment to rub the bridge of his nose and take in her formal figure.

"If you keep your shoulders that stiff you'll get neck pain when you're older. Trust me, it hurts a lot more than you would think it does."

"O-oh, sorry." Makoto, confused, attempted to relax her shoulders, but couldn't quite keep them down. Years of tension ingrained the rigid posture into her, and she wouldn't break it in just a night. If she were less nervous, she would actually be able to spare some thought to think about it, but now wasn't that time. She did, however, question why she would apologize in that situation.

"So, why was she crying?"

There it was. Makoto's breath caught, if only slightly. There was a substantial professional side of herself that knew Futaba crying was an unavoidable cost, and that her actions would prove better for her in the long run, but that veneer only held up against so much questioning. Sojiro took it a step further than that by phrasing his question in a simple and matter-of-fact way. He could have just asked her what happened, but instead turned the focus to Futaba's own emotional state.

Sojiro raised an eyebrow, his gaze giving the silence palpability.

Makoto opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "She didn't want us to."

A beat. "To what?"

"Enter her Palace. She wanted time to address the problem herself."

Quietly, he asked,"Then why the fuck did send those two into her Palace?"

"I-I don't…" Makoto bit her tongue, cutting off the 'I don't know' before she lied yet again. She knew. "We've- I mean, no one has ever been able to fix a Palace by themselves. It's a distortion b-beyond their individual ability to fix, so we needed to… so she could be happy."

Sojiro leaned back, and the resulting creaking of wood and leather grated through the silent home. His eyes drifted closed as he fell into his own thoughts. Makoto just watched and waited with anxiety to discover his thoughts on her choices.

"Wakaba would be screaming at you, you know."

Makoto gulped. Sojiro didn't move, but continued to speak nonetheless. The dichotomy between the topic at hand and Sojiro's position made the third-year even more uncomfortable, and suddenly she wished that she just hadn't come here and told Sae that she lost her phone.

"So I'll just say…" Sojiro opened his eyes and leaned forward, positioning his face level with hers. The lack of anger in his expression didn't cover the emotion in his voice, "Stay out of my daughter's head. I'll do what I can to work through it with her, and see if I can get her into some kind of therapy. But if I hear any kind of whisper that even suggests that you are going behind her back and messing around in her cognition, or whatever it is, I will do everything in my power to cause you as many problems as humanly possible. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, sir."

He pulled one of his hands out of its pocket and tossed something at Makoto. Her shaking, sweaty hands failed to catch it the first time, after a brief scramble, she managed to catch the object between her knees before it fell to the floor. It was her phone.

"I don't want your sister to be able to come after me for stealing if we ever do come to blows." As an afterthought, he added, "And tell that Ryuji kid that just because he snuck out through the back door doesn't mean I don't still have words for him, too."

Makoto nodded, vaguely noticing the smudges her wet fingers were leaving on her phone screen. She felt these nerves a lot more than she usually did. "Right... I'll be going now."

Sojiro grunted in acknowledgement. Cautiously, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Makoto stood and smoothed her dress. She moved to fold up the chair, but a look from Sojiro told her that it would be a better idea to just leave. So, silently, she made her way to the door, put her shoes back on, and walked out the door. Sojiro made no additional attempts to engage her in conversation.

* * *

The door to the Sakamoto residence slammed open, but Ryuji's hand shot forward to grab it before it slammed against the wall. He quietly cursed his carelessness. Even at his angriest, Ryuji tried his best to make sure not to cause any more trouble for his mother. When he was younger, he ended up breaking a lot of things in immature tantrums, but as he grew up he began to realize how much his mom would have to spend to fix up what he broke, and how much of a burden that would put on her. After the crazy medical bills his leg brought in, he just couldn't do that to her anymore. After stepping back to let Ann limp inside, he gently closed the brittle door.

Ryuji slid is backpack down to the floor and stepped into the box of an eating area. It was puny, sure, but it was the best they could afford. Ann pushed back one of the bland wooden chairs and slid down into it, casting an expectant gaze at him. Under any other circumstance, he'd be pissed off at being treated like a waiter, but Ann's arms were both pretty fucked up so he took it in stride. When he opened the fridge, a yellow note in his mom's handwriting greeted him.

' _I made some rice balls for you and Ann! Snack on them for a bit, I'll bring back some dinner around nine! Love you, Ryu-ryu! -Mom'_

"My mom's the best…"

He took out two of the foil-wrapped rice balls and handed one to Ann. She smiled as he let her read the note, but as they found out pretty soon after she woke up, the fight in Futaba's Palace left her throat with some burns, so she couldn't gush about his mom like she normally did. They'd be able to heal them next time they entered the Metaverse, but doing that twice in a day or trying to jump in before school would wipe them both out completely, but, for now, they would just pretend she was sick or something. That also kept her from making fun of the 'Ryu-ryu' part, but as long as she never leaked it to the rest of the team he would be able to just ignore that. Even if it was a bit of a childish nickname, it was something his mom gave him. She was also the reason Ann was here in the first place; the second he offhandedly mentioned that Ann lived alone most of the time, she plucked his phone from his hands and called her over for dinner. Dinner turned into spending the night, into spending the weekend, into spending however much time she had until one of her parents came into the country. But, apparently no one wanted that explanation, and would rather they be sleeping together.

Not that he would complain if they were, she was fucking _hot_ , but talking about sex had always made him kinda uncomfortable and was real different from actually having it. Or so he heard.

Ann noticed the blush on his cheeks before he did, and shot him one of her patented Panther winks that, oddly enough, didn't do much. He just waved her off with a throw-away "Oh, shut up…" and went back to his rice ball. Even so, he was smiling. That may have just been him enjoying the food, though.

Or, yet another option, he may have been trying to brush away the feeling of dread in the back of his mind, something that had taken root soon after his talk with Futaba earlier that day.

* * *

Akira carefully replaced the 'Roof Closed' sign and returned to the present Phantom Thieves. Haru knelt a ways from the group, working on some newer vegetables she planted for the spring season, but her serious expression told Akira that she was tuning in nonetheless. Even missing Yusuke and Futaba, the small pile of old desks that the initial Thieves used as their hideout didn't provide nearly enough seating choices that didn't involve the dusty roof tiles, forcing him and Haru to find their own ways of participating. Makoto assumed a proper sitting position in one of the few desks not in a stack of its kin, while Ryuji, in stark contrast, kicked his feet up onto his own desk. Ann placed herself on the actual table part of a desk, while Morgana (suspiciously) took the seat of the same pair, occasionally glancing upwards in a not-so-discreet method of checking out Ann's ass.

Akira noticed the second he saw her that she was not in good shape. According to Ryuji, he was forced to bail out of the Palace before healing her, so some of the injuries had transferred over to the real world. Her perfect skin was dried out completely, which was as much as cognitive fire would do to her externally most of the time, and although he couldn't see it through her letterman-style jacket and dark leggings, the stiffness that haunted her movements betrayed some serious bruising all over. He'd definitely have to get Ann back into the cognitive world to cast some healing spells on her, ASAP.

Ryuji's fingers rapped on the table. His impatience was nothing new, so Akira turned his focus to the black cat curled in the dull metal seat below Ann. He hadn't seen Morgana for most of yesterday, as he was off scouting the person Akira assumed would be their target before the news about Futaba hit. Morgana didn't take the news extremely well, but his worries focused more on how a lot of his innate knowledge on Palaces and the cognitive world in general seemed to be flipped on its head. Even after spending most of the night discussing it (after Morgana whined about all of his day's work being for nothing), they were both left just as confused as when they started. They would just have to go into the Palace and dissect the reasons themselves.

That's why they were on the rooftop today.

"Alright, let's get started."

The Thieves all looked up at him.

"First off, Haru, Makoto filled you in on what's going on, right?"

The Okumura heiress nodded, bringing her fluffy hair up and down with her. Akira smiled lightly, partly to alleviate the tension in the group, and partly because the more serious Haru was, the cuter she got, and the harder it was the keep a straight face around her. However, he only entertained those thoughts for a moment before reviving his Joker persona.

"Then, as you all know, Futaba has developed a second Palace."

The words hung heavy in the air. They all might have already known, but the gravity of the situation seemed fresh every time they encountered it. Akira had to paused to compose himself, and well as check the notepad he had open on the chairless desk in front of him. Initially, he planned on just allowing Makoto to give the speech, but when he met with her to discuss the agenda during lunch she requested that he take over. He almost refused, since he was one of the people who had no first-hand experience with Futaba's Palace, but there was a shred of desperation in her red eyes that pushed him into acceptance. She wasn't in prime condition, and a knowledgeable but mentally subprime Makoto wasn't a very good public speaker (something he had come to learn when helping her run mock interviews for colleges right after she got fourth in the exam rankings).

And so, he spoke. "From what those who have entered the Palace or interacted with Futaba have told me, the distortion stems from an inferiority complex of some kind. She seems to believe that we baby her, and that we act as her caretakers. To reach the level of a Palace, though, there is probably more to it than that, but we haven't pinpointed that yet."

Akira glanced in Makoto's direction and quirked an eyebrow to ask his question. Almost imperceptibly, the girl nodded. He hit everything he needed to. He held the gaze for a moment longer, taking in the dullness of her usually vibrant crimson eyes and the heavy amounts of concealer under them. She may be a bit worse off than he initially expected, Akira realized. Regardless, he returned to the rest of the group.

"She doesn't seem to have armies of Shadows roaming inside her. Ryuji and Ann have already made a preliminary expedition into the Day-care, and encountered four Shadows, all based on Phantom Thief members. Ryuji, can you give us some information on what you ran into?"

Ryuji perked up, his eyes wide in surprise, but quickly got onto business. Akira made a note to apologize for putting him on the spot without warning. "Oh, yeah. I fought a Shadow version of Haru."

"Oh! I'm sorry…" Haru shuffled a little bit, a nervous tick Akira had taken more notice of recently. The apology also followed under that vein, especially considering nothing about it could be even slightly considered her fault. Haru knew that, of course, but when dealing with the Metaverse, even cognitive creations could affect how one viewed the real version, no matter how unrelated they were. The caution, while it represented some more deep-seated insecurities of her own, made sense in the given circumstances.

Ryuji brushed it aside easily, having become more accustomed to Haru's meekness in the past months. "You're fine, it was just a Shadow. It seemed to have your sadistic streak, though. Kinda terrifying."

Haru's face turned pinker than her sweater. Akira let a slight chuckle go, and was echoed by a quiet, awkward chorus of exhalations. None of them were really in the comedic mood, even if her embarrassment could lighten it somewhat.

"Anyways," Ryuji continued, "Ann faced a Shadow version of me n' her."

Akira's eyes fluttered to Makoto's lips, and his worry for her multiplied tenfold when he didn't see her lips move to correct his grammar. He'd have to pull her aside after the meeting; everything about this Palace was wrong. It shouldn't exist, and the simple fact that it did was destroying the status quo he had worked so hard for. He wouldn't let his friends suffer like this...

"I don't know what they were like, but Ann's Shadow seemed to be a real arsonist. Apparently the smoke got to her," he said, jabbing his thumb in Ann's direction, "and her voice is out."

Ann gingerly rubbed her throat and smiled apologetically. Another thing on a list of situations that went too wrong to be just random happenstance. He still didn't have answers, but Akira's theories were beginning to take shape.

"I-" Ann tried to speak, but after a couple of seconds of indecipherable scratching she gave up on the idea. Her morale was shot, Akira could tell this at a glance, and her normal pep had no place to go without her voice. Instead, with an air of defeat, no, resignation, maybe, she pulled a piece of paper out from her pocket and handed it Ryuji.

"What's thi- Oh, right, gotcha." The boy cleared his throat, holding up the note as his script. "Shadow me, being Ryuji, was, apparently, a 'great big hulking brute of a Shadow. Hit hard, but wasn't too smart,'- wait, the hell?! Fucking Futaba…" The rest of the Thieves kept their composure, bringing him back into meeting mode with their lack of response. "Yeah, sorry. It got burned to ashes in the crossfire between the two Ann's, so that's a threat outta the way. I also managed to destroy Haru's Shadow. It was basically just Haru with a lotta guns, not much more to say there. Shadow Ann was- yo, Ann, what's this say?"

Ann leaned over, bracing her arm against his shoulder and using that as a headrest to read the note. She almost spoke, then, seemingly remembering that she had no voice, ripped the paper back from him and started going through her bag. She pulled out a pen, and very slowly and deliberately wrote some more before handing it back and slumping over into her hands.

"'Me and Carmen, but… not.'"

Akira stole a glance in Makoto's direction. Again, no reaction.

"'Nothing as crazy as Ryuji's, but she and her persona were definitely Shadows. Not quite right, ya know?'" Ryuji put down the note. "I didn't see their Shadow forms, the fire woulda killed me, sorry. We did get kicked out by a Shadow Makoto though, if that helps. Didn't see any of her combat skills, though."

Makoto raised her head at this, a weak fire lit in her eyes. "What was she- it, like?"

Ryuji rubbed the back of his head as if trying to dig up some lost memory. "I didn't pay that much attention to her, but she seemed like a queen, ya know? Really boss-like."

"Interesting…" With that, their strategist retreated back into herself. This Makoto was completely different from the one Akira spent time with yesterday, he noted, again reaffirming his need to talk with her after they disbanded the main group. He may not have time, depending on whether or not they would be able to mobilize into the Palace tonight, but he also wanted to make sure Queen was on her game before entering a dangerous situation.

"Thanks, Ryuji." Akira cast his eyes over the group as a whole. "That's what we have. Our next mission is to save our friend. Does everyone have a free schedule tonight, or should we-"

Makoto's voice cut him off. "We still need to vote."

Akira would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. "But it's- it's Futaba. No one here would abandon their friend to a Palace, right?" A chorus of shaking heads, including Makoto's, affirmed his doubts.

"Right. But there's a procedure in place, and we should follow it."

Akira sighed. Suddenly he felt on edge, but he pushed that to the back of his mind to reassume his leader persona. "Alright. Makoto, your vote?"

"I-I'm for."

He felt his brow furrow. If she wanted to bring this up, he thought something may have changed her mind about helping Futaba, but if it was really just for procedure…

"Alright. I'll grab Yusuke's vote after we disperse, he's a safe assumption for. Haru?"

"Yes."

"Ann?"

The blonde girl nodded.

"Morgana?"

"If there's Treasure, I'm there. Besides, I want to see what this anomaly of a Palace is like for my own two eyes."

"Ryuji?"

Ryuji let out a slow, steady breath. "I don't know, man."

.

.

.

"What do you mean, 'I don't know?'" Akira asked. Something in the back of his mind told him to hide his aggression, to actually communicate with Ryuji and try to win him over, emotionally he was on _fire._ Arsene's blue flames burned inside him; they would not tolerate complacency on his team. Rebels needed to act, especially when one of their own were at stake and, even more, so, when they weren't supposed to be.

Ryuji picked up on the aggression and matched it with his own. "What I'm sayin' is, you never bothered to mention that Futaba doesn't want us pokin' around in her Palace! I'm all for helpin' her, but like, I actually _talked_ to her, man! She's not in a good place, but I don't think it's really cuz of the Palace!"

Akira simmered, allowing the thought of leaving Futaba to face a Palace of distorted desires on her own fester like an open wound and build that simmer to a boil. "What do you think, then?!"

Ryuji put his feet down, leaning in towards Akira. "I dunno, I'm just saying, her whole problem is thinkin' we baby her all the time, and by goin' in to fix her problems we're basically just doin' what caused the issue in the first place, so what good would that do?!"

"Listen, Ryuji," Akira hissed, "I would be all with you if it weren't for a couple of things. First off, you're talking about leaving one of your _own teammates_ with a Palace even though we can do something about it. Second, she's had a Palace before and has a persona now, so, by all means, this shouldn't even be possible. That makes me think that, maybe, just maybe, we should do something to fix it?"

"And I'm sayin' that the source of her distortion seems pretty freakin' normal for a teen to be going through!"

"That doesn't change the fact that this has _never fucking happened before!"_

Ryuji slammed his fist on the desk and stood up, taking a step towards his leader. "Yeah, and how would you know!? You got your Persona a day before me, and suddenly just because a talking cat says so you know everything there is to know about Palaces?!"

"I'm not talking about- Fuck's sake!" Akira broke their stare down, stomping a few steps towards the fence around the roof. Everyone else just stared, shocked. Both boys' breathing was sharp and pointed, ready to clash again if either of them engaged. Akira's mind raced; this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Nothing about this was right. He needed to fix it, to make everyone happy again.

"I'm going in tomorrow. Anyone who wants to join me can meet me at the accessway hideout."

"You can't do th-" Ryuji tried to yell after him, but he blew him off.

"I'm not going as a Phantom Thief, I'm going as myself."

"That doesn't-"

But Akira had already slammed the stairwell door shut behind him, muting the complaints. The others might not get it, but he knew best in this situation. If they would just _listen_ to him, everything would go smoothly, and they'd all come out of it safe and sound _._ He knew what he was doing, and he would make sure that everyone got the easy, happy life they deserved. That's what he was fighting for, even if they couldn't see the long term.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well that took about as long to update as I expected. However, I am now finished with finals, have another playthrough of the game under my belt, and have a document of unused scenes even longer than this chapter! In other words, even with finals and university generally distracting my time, this chapter was extremely difficult to write. I ended up moving most of what I initially planned for release in this chapter to different parts of the story after writing its first draft, and then going back and moving some scenes I planned for future use into this one, and basically fucking over my entire initial outline multiple times. I think everything is sorted out now, though, so writing future chapters will be quite a bit easier.

Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for the continued support. Even after going silent for slightly more than a month (in regards to posts, I respond to most questions), I was still getting a steady stream of follows and favs and what-not, and that's really nice. Love y'all.

Stay awesome and I hope y'all are living your best lives,

ND


	6. Chapter 6

"Johanna!"

Makoto's persona tore through the front gates of the daycare-like Palace; gates that, she knew, weren't there when Ann and Ryuji made their scouting run. Akira dashed in afterwards, drawing his pistol and taking aim the chromatic motorbike. The doors to the building stayed shut. To Makoto, it looked almost abandoned. Blue lights from her persona's flames flickered against the brick-like wall and starlight cast a faint glow from above, but no lights shone from inside the windows. After a brief, tense moment of silence, Akira motioned the rest of the team forward.

For now, it was only Morgana and Yusuke. Joker, Mona, Fox and Queen- that was tonight's infiltration team. Akira and Ryuji hadn't talked since that afternoon, at least as far as Makoto knew, and due to how close Ann and Ryuji were, he opted not to take her through the actual infiltration. Haru took her into Mementos earlier to heal her, and while she could probably go for a second round, the transition between worlds took enough of a toll that Akira seemed to think it best to let her sit tonight out.

The looming threat of Mementos scratched at Makoto's subconscious, but it seemed to be getting to Akira even more. His attitude was steadily deteriorating, and she saw moments of manic energy peek through his usually calm facade. His irritation was scary, and she found herself taking careful steps around him so she wouldn't draw his ire. Part of her wanted to call him out, especially after how he so blatantly rejected the rules the Phantom Thieves were founded on when he didn't get an unanimous consensus, but… it made sense.

The situation was bound to be controversial, it was one of their own teammates! They automatically lost a vote because Futaba refused to let them help her. She was being unreasonable. That was it.

Right?

Morgana bounded past her, scanning the outer walls. She let Johanna fade away as he spoke. "Joker, your theory was spot-on. Her awareness of Ryuji and Ann's infiltration was enough to act as a pseudo-calling card. I can sense the Treasure. I don't feel any security, though."

"Interesting," Joker mumbled, taking a moment to think. He scanned the environment and seemingly came to a decision, raising a hand to draw the team's attention. "We focus on stealth, even more so than usual. Save your strength; if we can get to the Treasure tonight, we're going to steal it. Fox," he said, turning to address Yusuke, "I want you to be our main fighter if it comes down to it. Mona and Queen, avoid doing any more than you have to."

"Right," replied the chorus. Yusuke took a breathe to center himself, watching and waiting for Joker's orders.

"Queen, you mentioned the gates not being here before. What's different from Skull and Panther's report?"

Makoto gave the daycare another look. "Honestly, I'm not completely sure. It seems bigger from what Ryuji described, but I don't know about any differences in detail."

Joker nodded. "Let's make this quick and painless. We've already announced our presence," he said, looking at the demolished front gate, "so let's go through the front door and save some trouble. Fox?"

"Right." Together, the two approached the large wooden double doors and took positions across from each other. Makoto stepped away from the door, just in case they were to accidentally trigger any traps, and Morgana summoned Zorro and bristled, ready to pounce. Both boys reached for a doorknob and, on a silent countdown, ripped them open at the same time.

' _No locks, huh?'_ Makoto thought. _'Weird.'_

Even weirder, they were greeted by even more nothing. The moral quandaries of entering the Palace in the first place aside, the lack of defence put her on edge. She knew that the Shadow Haru Ann and Ryuji met was neutral until she determined them to be a threat, but usually after a threat was established Palace occupants were a lot less willing to talk, and even less willing to let someone just walk right in.

"Joker, this doesn't feel right. Be careful."

Joker smirked. "Of course. If we get in a fight, we're doing it wrong."

Makoto's heart may have partially skipped a beat to see Akira's trademarked smirk back, but Queen was a whole different person. "Nothing flashy."

"Right, right. Let's go."

Akira disappeared into the darkened waiting room, followed closely by a somewhat less-stealthy Yusuke. Morgana went in next, immediately jumping into a vent in the room's back left corner. Makoto followed, staying near the back as a support member of sorts. Without Futaba, they had to be a lot more careful, and while Morgana would take over a lot of the Palace logistics Makoto had a duty to act as a team coordinator and couldn't afford to blaze the halls on Johanna.

As much as she might want to.

"For a Palace this is rather bland," Yusuke remarked. "There aren't even any paintings or photos on the walls. If Futaba conjured up a shadow version of me, this lack of attention to decor has made me lose all respect for him."

Morgana's voice echoed over his faint scampering through the vents. "That may be more reflective of Futaba rather than you. She must not see much decoration in the world."

"There's also a dangerous lack of video game references." Joker stepped out of the darkness so silently Makoto would have jumped if she weren't so used to it. "Skull said he took her to the arcade a little while ago, and you," he looked at Queen, "said she tried to get you into a game of sorts before you learned about the Palace."

"And she knew about it before then," she finished. "This must be completely disconnected from that side of her cognition."

Morgana popped out of the vent and carefully replaced the grate. "Nothing interesting in the next couple of rooms. I think I found the fire hazard that took away Lady Ann's voice, though. Seems to line up with the directions we were given."

"Let's get to it, then."

* * *

Makoto pulled her scarf up to her face as they walked through the ashen remains of burnt toys and stuffed animals. In her experience, Palaces usually self-corrected battle damage, so to see remains like this after such a period of time put her off a-

Something moved.

"Jok-"

Before she could even call out, a monstrous hand broke out of the ash and wrapped fully around Joker, knocking the wind out of him. She saw his face twist in pain as the grotesque, Skull-faced juggernaut pulled itself together from the ashes of the previous fight. Before Johanna had fully materialized, Yusuke cut deep into the Shadow's flesh and forced it to release its grip.

Everything started moving in slow motion. Queen saw the small form of Mona bounded through a layer of burnt toys, sparking with blue flames as he began summoning his persona. Joker started falling to the ground, but his eyes were focused; if the shadow made any movement towards him, he would likely be able to get out of the way. Yusuke ripped his katana from its arm and jumped away from a-

 _'That arm... isn't fully formed?'_

The full picture came together in Makoto's mind. The shadow hadn't hidden in wait under the ashes; he was _forming from them._ The wound Fox left was quickly covered by a wisp of grey dust, further confirming her theory. As Yusuke landed beside her, time returned to its normal speed.

"Zorro!"

Mona's persona tackled what Makoto could only assume was Shadow Ryuji, driving it into the wall and blasting it with galeforce winds. Makoto's mind raced even as she ripped off her own mask and swooped in on Johanna to catch Joker. Zoro stabbed the shadow through the chest and blasted it with a wind ability, but as the dust cleared from the air it became clear that the attack was nigh-useless. Shadow Skull's reaction to the wind attacks didn't betray any weakness, not like Captain Kidd. They couldn't rely on previous knowledge.

"Oof... that could've been my last surprise if you guys hadn't reacted in time. Luckily, it looks like I'll live to have my ribs broken again."

Makoto almost allowed herself a chuckle at the joke. Her stoic nature, however, probably saved her life. In the blink of an eye, an axe blade appeared in her path, perfectly aligned with her neck. Only her near-instant reaction time let her crash Johanna and barely avoid decapitation. Joker fell hard, bouncing somewhere into the dunes of ash. Makoto's eyes darted around, trying to peer through the floating grey sediment to no avail. Only her natural reaction speed and muscle memory let her dive out of the way of another axe swipe.

 _'I can't fight like this...'_

Makoto channeled a small amount of Johanna's nuclear power to blow away the immediate ash cloud and reveal her opponent.

Shadow Ryuji roared, and each step of the monstrous, hulking beast shook the room, but that was the last thing on Makoto's mind.

A yellow-eyed Haru, dressed in Noir's outfit, stood over her. She held a gruesome axe loosely in her right hand and what appeared to be an assault rifle in her left.

"Oh my. Riding a motorbike indoors is dangerous, Mako-chan," she said, smiling. "Especially if you aren't wearing a helmet."

Makoto rolled forward to get through Haru's guard, leaning to the left to avoid the rising rifle muzzle. She needed to stay close enough that it was difficult for Haru to use her weapons; if anything, this was her safest option until she could get her on the ground. She landed a quick jab to Haru's face, the dropped to the ground to try to sweep her legs out from under her. Queen winced- even through her padded leather outfit, the Shadow's legs rang metallic and unyielding. Before she could worry too much about the pain, Makoto had to dive under another axe swing.

' _Ryuji said he killed- No, no time. Fight now, think later.'_

She heard the light 'click' of a trigger and instantly summoned Johanna between her and Haru to block the incoming hail of bullets. Makoto felt a crash behind her as Yusuke summoned Goemon to throw Shadow Ryuji to the other side of the room; he must have noticed the presence of another enemy and realized that they needed to split the danger up. Good. Even with the four-versus-two numbers advantage they Phantom Thieves had, the power levels both of the Shadows showed left her feeling like she was fighting for her life. Shadow Ann or Makoto could show up at any moment; for all Queen knew, they were surrounded.

A flash of blue came from behind her. "Attis, Thermopylae!"

Joker's power flowed through Makoto and she jumped back into fray. Johanna moved simultaneously, leaving nuclear flames in her wake as she charged Shadow Haru. The persona drifted right before hitting Haru, cutting of its vision with blue fire. That moment of weakness gave Makoto the time she needed to get up close and personal. She dashed through the smoke, landing a spiked punch right into Shadow Haru's stomach and knocking the wind out of her. The metal feeling from earlier caved under her newfound strength, and each punch felt like she was tearing through tinfoil.

"Queen, back up! Odin!"

At Joker's command, she fell back into the cover of ash. A blue persona rocketed past her, golden spear in hand, and impaled Shadow Haru through the chest mercilessly. Makoto almost felt bad- it looked uncomfortably like the real Haru. However, that feeling quickly disappeared when Haru grabbed the spear, snapped it, and pulled a full-sized, physically-impossible-to-hide-up-a-sleeve machine gun out from up her sleeve to rain hell on Joker. The gaping hole in her abdomen didn't seem to affect her at all.

"You shouldn't be here!" she screamed, manic, "Our ward made her wishes known!"

The guilt Makoto had been suppressing shuddered, freezing her up for barely a second. Haru's attention immediately locked on her. While keeping suppressing fire on Joker's position with one arm, another machine gun appeared out of nowhere and pointed towards her.

"Shi-"

"Alice."

A flicker of blue flame.

"Haru… Die for me."

Haru evaporated in a burst of energy, leaving Joker and a small blonde girl in a blue dress standing where she once was. Joker's persona returned to his mask with little fanfare. Haru's feathered mask floated gently to the ground, the only reminder that the Shadow had once existed. Joker twirled his knife absently, seemingly unharmed and unfatigued. He nodded at her and she nodded back, a brief moment of acknowledgement between born leaders, and together they took off towards Shadow Ryuji.

* * *

The real Ryuji opened a cupboard and searched through the litany of video games he had let pile up over time. The console was already unplugged and stowed semi-safely in a duffle bag he used to use for track, so now, he just had to find exclusive games that Futaba probably hadn't played. Sure, every time he wanted to interact with her it ended up being over video games and, sure, that wasn't the most creative way to rebuild a relationship, but dammit he was trying his best!

Ann sat up behind him. As soon as they walked into the Sakamoto apartment, she threw on an oversized sweater, let her hair down, curled up into a ball on the couch, and hadn't moved since. Ryuji tried to talk to her a couple times, but the combination of stress from the social situation and entering and exiting the Metaverse left her too tired to care. They hadn't even talked on the train leaving school. Even Haru's demeanor seemed wilted after the Phantom Thieves meeting; it just left a bad taste in everyone's mouth.

Just when he was starting to think they were going to sit in the awkwardness for the rest of the night, she spoke. "Hey, Ryuji?"

"Yeah?"

"What're you doing?"

There was still something off, but he felt better not sitting in the silence. "Tryna see if I have any games Futaba would like." A beat. "Wanna help me look?"

Ann sighed. "Sure." She shifted, kicking he legs out from the sweater, and shuffled over to join him. The blondes worked in silence for a moment as they sorted through his old collection.

"Oh shit, for real?" Ryuji pulled a nondescript case from the pile. "Yo, Ann, I found my old copy of Crash Bros!"

Ann brightened every so slightly, and some of the gleam returned to her blue eyes. "Damn, really? It's been so long, I forgot you even had it."

"Yeah, me too. I don't think I've touched it since I started running."

Ann raised an eyebrow. "Then it must've been longer for me. When… whenever we stopped hanging out."

He didn't know exactly when they made that switch. There was just a period in late middle school when they drifted apart. Nothing _caused_ that. "This brings back memories, though." A pause. Not quite to let him reminisce, but to get the words out. "Ya know, I used this game to make friends. I was real self-conscious about entertainin' people, I guess."

"Dude, you know you were, like, popular, right?"

The 'were' kind of stung. Ryuji relived the transition from 'track star' to 'delinquent' in a flicker of memories before pushing it aside. "Yeah, but actually hanging out with people, ya know? Inviting them over. But then I saw this gem tucked away in the used section at the game store a couple blocks over and _begged_ my mom for it. Heh."

Ann chuckled lightly. "You kinda sucked, though."

"Geez," Ryuji groaned, indignant, "I got better. I could wipe the floor with you now."

"Yeah, whatever, Futaba'd still cream us both."

"Nope." Ryuji separated the game from the pile and started going through the cabinet under the TV. It didn't take him long to pull out the old console and its controllers, but finding the correct power cords took a minute more than an eternity. "I'm gonna give her the controller with the broken A-button and kick her ass. You wanna come watch?"

"That's probably not the best way to cheer her up…" Ann reprimanded, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

"Well," he replied as he started packing everything into a duffle bag, "I'm not going there to cheer her up. I'm going there to play a game or two." He zipped the bag shut in punctuation. "We have four controllers. Imma try to convince the Boss to play, but there's room for one more."

Ann probably thought she hid the flicker in her eye and the twitch in her posture, but Ryuji saw the grey clouds around her return. "I dunno, I'm really tired after the Metaverse thing…"

"You'd be a better opponent than me. Even with the handicap, I probably won't put up much of a fight."

Something inside Ann wilts. "Hey, Ryuji?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I don't know if I can face her."

He didn't need to ask 'why.' They were all at the meeting. Futaba wouldn't know what they said, but for someone like Ann that wouldn't change anything. She still voted 'for,' after all. Even if she wasn't in the Palace anymore, she had been, and she knew that the others were probably there right now.

"C'mon," he said gently, "let's go together. Your vote… it's not binding or nothin'. It doesn't mean you can't still be her friend."

"But we still went behind her back! You and me! And I didn't… I didn't stand up for her!" A glimmer of tears shone at the edge of her eyes. "You did! You have the right to do this! I… God, it's just like with Shiho. I didn't do anything when I was given the chance to act."

Ryuji started shaking his head the moment she started talking down on herself. "No, this isn't that. It's completely-"

"No, it's not 'completely different,' Ryuji! I had the option to stand up for my friend and I _didn't!"_ Ann cried out, shaking and, in one her her shudders, losing balance. "God, I feel sick… I'm just a bystander. Again! When I was in the Palace, I wasn't even thinking about it. I was just going through the motions. But, like, when I got out, when I saw her, it… I knew I betrayed her. I can't look her in the eyes, Ryuji."

Ryuji, already holding her steady after she lost her balance, pulled Ann into a hug. "This isn't that. I know she has a Palace and all that, but we still have a chance to make this right. Maybe we can't get through to Akira, but we can do our best with Futaba."

* * *

Ryuji hefted the strap of his bag farther up his shoulder and raised his fist to the door of the Sakura residence, lit dimly by the closed windows and streetlights. Ann stood a few steps behind him, hiding her nervous energy by casting quick glances over the very sparse decorations in front of the house. He managed to talk her into coming, but now that they were there he was the one getting cold feet.

He wasn't blameless in this. The optimistic energy, the desire to make things right that had driven him so far, didn't quite take him home. He remembered Futaba on the verge of tears, betrayed, and his fist fell halfway down to his side. There it stopped, hovered, and after a beat lashed out and struck in three quick knocks.

' _Ain't no time to be feelin' sorry for myself, especially after talkin' with Ann.'_

Ryuji heard the faint creak of an old chair followed by a muttered "Oh, what the hell is it this time…" and realized this may not have been the smartest plan. Especially when, after listening to the shuffling steps of his demise grow ever-nearer, Sojiro Sakura opened the door and fixed him with a glare of absolute disdain.

"Hey, Boss," Ryuji said.

Sojiro chose not to immediately respond, instead letting his eyes drift over to Ann. "Glad she's okay."

"Hey, Boss," she said, offering a cautious wave.

Ryuji watched the older man's gears turn. "We'd like to-"

"Looks like I don't have to go through the trouble of tracking you down after all," Sojiro interrupted. The man lived up to his moniker of 'Boss;' not even for a second did he let Ryuji believe he had any small piece of power. "Did the Prez tell your little group what I said to her?"

Ryuji raised an eyebrow. "Nah, I didn't know you'd talked to her."

Sojiro let out a sigh. "Great. I'm talking to Akira next, then." The tangent floated away into the wind, leaving a tense silence that lasted a beat longer than was comfortable. "What do you want?"

Ryuji listened to Ann shift uncomfortably behind him. He was acutely aware that Sojiro had made no move to invite them in. "We're here to apologize to Futaba and," he motioned to the bag, "maybe play some games with her, if she wants."

"And this is all real-world stuff?"

A beat.

"Y-yeah," Ann said. "We have a fourth controller, if…"

Sojiro let out a small chuckle. "You think I can play one of those things? My hands have been hurting for the past decade…" Sojiro ran a hand over his receding hairline, thinking. "Where's Kurusu?"

No response.

"Ah."

Sojiro stepped back into the hallway and motioned for the two to enter. They both thanked him quietly; while not directed at them, the tension grew exponentially through the revelation. As they moved past him, he asked one more question.

"You aren't here as part of the Phantom Thieves, right?"

Ann shook her head and confidently stated, "No."

"She needs friends now. I'm not saying she'll forgive you, but… I'm glad you're trying." While he replied, Sojiro grabbed his hat, a coat, and slipped his shoes on. "Don't make a mess of the place while I'm gone. Futaba knows where the snacks are."

Some of Ryuji's thoughts drifted towards stopping Sojiro, towards saying something like, 'Akira's not doing what you think he's doing.' The Phantom Thief in him wanted to cover their tracks and keep his friend safe. But another part, and the part that won out, said, 'Akira deserves what he's got coming.' Their fight earlier still bounced around in his head, and he couldn't say that he wasn't heated about it. The blonde grit his teeth and let Sojiro disappear into the night.

' _Akira isn't acting as part of the Phantom Thieves, anyways.'_

Ann stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting and watching. "You doing okay?"

Ryuji flashed a smile. "Course I am!"

* * *

' _Why are they here?'_

Futaba jumped out of bed, throwing her blankets onto the junk-covered floor.

' _Why are they here?'_

Sojiro didn't turn them away. Ann and Ryuji's footsteps echoed as they came up the stairs.

' _Why are they here?!'_

Futaba grabbed her gaming chair and threw it against the door. She knew from experience that it wouldn't really stop anyone from entering, though.

' _WHY ARE THEY HERE?!'_

She clicked through the line of locks, including the extras she had installed herself during her shut-in phase.

' _They'll see the wreck that you are.'_

She stepped back and tried to stop the world from spinning. What was she missing?

' _No, they won't. I won't let them.'_

She heard them reach the top of the stairs.

' _Even if they don't see you, they'll know. Those locks don't change anything.'_

Futaba took a step back and tripped over an empty can, landing hard. The 'sleep' hadn't done anything to calm her down; now her anxiety just ripped through her weakened rationality.

' _Maybe they brought you your calling card? "Futaba Sakura, the lazy little girl who_ _lets her friends fix all her problems."'_

"No… please, no…" her voice doesn't even approach the volume of a whisper. "I don't need help. I don't. Leave me alone…"

Each footstep split her head like an icepick and destroyed anything resembling a train of thought.

' _The poor heroes can't leave anyone alone, though, can they? Because they know what you won't admit. You can't do anything without them.'_

Futaba became vaguely aware of her chest rising and falling rapidly. Hyperventilation.

' _Nor can you do anything for them.'_

Futaba couldn't see anything. She didn't have her glasses on and the room was dark, closed off from even moonlight by her heavy-duty shades.

' _You're useless.'_

But she could still feel. Her hands shot out behind her, guiding her backwards through the trash and blankets.

' _Your hacking is a gimmick. The Phantom Thieves don't need it anymore, now that Medjed is done.'_

She shuffled and crawled into the little space under her computer desk that the chair once occupied and curled up.

' _You're a cancer.'_

She pulled one of her blankets over herself and wrapped it tight. She could feel herself shaking, her teeth chattering.

' _A parasite.'_

A knock on the door.

' _A virus meant to be purged.'_

"Yo, Futaba?"

 _'DELETED AND REPLACED LIKE ANYTHING ELSE WITH FAULTY CODING.'_

"It's Ryuji."

 _'SHUT DOWN AND THROWN ASIDE.'_

"Listen..."

 _'JUST ANOTHER CASE OF MENTAL SHUTDOWN, RIGHT?!'_

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I just wanna let you know that Ann and I are in full support of you handlin' this whole thing how you feel like you should handle it."

Something pulled her back into the present. The building voices inside Futaba's head fell into the background. They weren't gone, but she could breathe again. Even in the total darkness of her room, the feelings of oppression seemed to lighten, if just by a hair.

"Ann's here too, by the way."

Ann's voice came next, quieter. "Hey, Futaba. I'm really sorry about going behind your back. I didn't realize how badly I was betraying your trust. I know this is asking for a lot, but please forgive me!"

She can't hear it, but the shadows from under her door let her know that both Ann and Ryuji bowed fully. Futaba held still for as long as she could hold her breath then let out a long, shuddering sigh. Her headspace was still messed up, but it was quieter now. Manageable. Slowly, she slid out from her hiding spot.

Ryuji's voice. The shadows were still parallel to the floor. "We also brought Crash Bros, if you wanna play."

While she would normally jump at the opportunity, Futaba's emotions were never ones to make quick switches. So, instead of jumping, she got up and ever-so-shakily shuffled towards the door. She moved the chair aside, undid one lock, then two, then three, and, after a brief pause, turned the door handle and opened it, just a crack.

Two blondes smiled back at her. The sheer audacity they showed struck a chord with Futaba; here were the two people who directly acted against her will, who she had fallen asleep cursing and mentally screaming at, sitting at the door to her room and apologizing as if that excused everything. The redhead hadn't forgiven them, but she hadn't _not_ forgiven them. She didn't know what to think anymore. But... they brought Crash Bros. And, maybe, after living so long on her own, she had began to enjoy social interactions to an extent.

"I'll have you know," Futaba muttered, "that fighting games are one of my specialties."

Ryuji's grin widened. "Doesn't matter, cuz I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

Ann visibly relaxed when the door opened. "Hey, I'm a contender in this, too!"

"Hehehe," Futaba let a quiet cheshire-like chuckle escape, "you're both contenders to be crushed!" With that, she opened the door completely. "How bout this? If I don't three-stock you, I'll forgive you!"

"Game on!" Ryuji said.

Ann grimaced. "Oh no…"

* * *

Makoto dove out of the way of the rusted iron cannon Shadow Ryuji called a 'right hand' and jumped back to let Yusuke and Goemon engage the beast.

'Beast' wasn't quite the right term. The shadow was huge, grotesque, and horrifying, but most definitely human. Its muscles were top-heavy, as Akira pointed out with the quip, 'Damn, Skull, I told you not to skip leg day!', but it never seemed to struggle to keep its balance. The flesh of its right arm wrapped around the iron cannon, making it seem more like an extension of its body than anything else. The cannon could definitely shoot (Mona took a lightning-infused cannonball to the face earlier), but Shadow Ryuji seemed to be content using it as a blunt weapon most of the time. Not that the Niijima could tell it was Ryuji, truly; its head was wrapped in a pirate's flag, with the skull covering the general area of its face, and it was all held down by a noose tied around its neck. It looked like an undead monster gone wrong.

Akira danced around, shouting taunts and taking shots, but despite their best efforts the Shadow forged on, seemingly unperturbed. Alice's death spells seemed to have no effect, further cementing Makoto's growing theory that it was a zombie of some sort. That, and that it emerged from the ashes around them like a phoenix. That didn't mean anything in the Metaverse, though. Shadows were shadows.

And this shadow was powerful. It met Joker's physical assault with a spray of fireballs and quickly swung the smoking cannon into Goemon's head, knocking Yusuke and his persona to the ground. The sack over its head stretched vertically like it was opening its jaw, but no sound came out. Morgana tried to take advantage of the lull in movement by getting beneath its feet, but for a monster of its size it was surprisingly agile. Its footwork allowed it to move around with pinpoint accuracy, staying just out of Mona's reach until it snapped off an unexpected kick. Zorro appeared in a puff of blue fire to brush it aside, but the persona's follow-up slash didn't even break skin.

' _Oh no!'_

"Mona, look-"

Queen grimaced as the brute's hand wrapped completely around the catlike human.

"Let go of me, you stupid- ERK!"

The monster squeezed enough to shut him up. The Jolly Roger seemed to observe the cat for a moment, but Morgana's growing vocalizations of pain sprung everyone back into motion.

Until, like the flick of a lightswitch, they stopped.

The giant shadow melted away, dropping Morgana to the floor. Somewhere, a lightswitch actually _did_ flip. The darkness disappeared under the glaring fluorescent lights and revealed a regular-sized, yellow-eyed Ryuji stretching and rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh my… how disappointing."

Makoto jumped forward at the sound of a soft voice behind her. Shadow Haru pouted, axe in hand, barely a foot from where she once stood.

"You- how are you…?"

Shadow Haru just smiled. "Sorry, but that's a secret."

Over by the recovering Shadow Ryuji, Joker dove forward in a flash of black and attempted to drive a knife through the shadow. To his surprise, nothing happened. The knife he had been wielding earlier faded in a flash of blue flame; everything that identified them as the Phantom Thieves faded. They were back in school clothes. Which meant…

"We aren't a threat anymore," Makoto muttered.

"Precisely!" Shadow Haru confirmed.

The yellow-eyed Ryuji finished cracking all of his bones. "Wow, that was a fun one! Beats being roasted alive for fifteen minutes!"

A section of ashes twisted around him and took the form of a yellow-eyed Ann. "Oh, please, you love it!" she laughed, gently rubbing a hand over his chest.

"If they're your flames then, yeah, you got me there!" He smiled. "Missed you, babe."

At that, things got fiery in a different sense.

Akira's eyes still burned for a fight, but his calmer side told him to wait and see where this development left them. Makoto nodded to him. This was… weird. Seeing two cognitive copies of her friends all over each other was a bit disconcerting, but this could still be a good change.

Haru let out a sigh. "You two! What have I told you about PDA?"

Shadow Ann chuckled. "The kid isn't here, so don't worry about it!"

The two blondes went back to each other with no regard for the onlookers. Shadow Haru just sighed again before turning to address the very-confused Phantom Thieves. "Please forgive their rudeness."

Yusuke couldn't take his eyes off of them. "No, there is nothing to forgive! This is passion that I have never experienced before, I want to take it all in!"

"Unfortunately, we'll have to be moving on soon. My boss would like to see you," Shadow Haru said with a faint hint of disgust. She walked over to the small door leading further into the Palace and opened it for them. "Right this way, please."

No one moved.

Makoto spoke before the silence could get too prevalent. "I thought there was some sort of clearance system?"

Haru nodded. "Normally, yes. But our ward has recently had a change of temperament, and our boss can override the normal rules to let you meet with them." Her eyes hardened. Makoto could swear she saw the glow even brighter. "Of course, this is a special case. If, at any point, we determine you to be a danger to our ward, we will not hesitate eviscerate you."

Akira relaxed out of his combat stance and took a step through the door. "Well, let's not keep the boss waiting. C'mon, guys!"

* * *

 **A/N:**

So.

It's been awhile.

Sorry about that. I have no excuses. An unexpected amount of personal change happened over the time I thought would be free, and by the time I pulled the pieces back together, this story… felt abandoned. Of course, I still had ideas for it, but I had started work on other projects related to other things. So then it sat, and sat, and sat.

And then I read the reviews again. Because, for some reason, this little story was still getting follows and favorites and reviews. And that just… blew me away, really. I had felt guilty about reading the reviews because, in my mind, I wasn't going to come back to this, but when I finally did it was like… wow. So, thank you all so much.

I hope you stick around for more. I'm expecting about five more chapters, so… let's finish this thing.

Thanks for everything, and be well,

ND


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